


call it fate, call it karma

by gakddu



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Friendship, Homesickness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tension, a lot of cats and cat references, and felix is french canadian because i also can, idiots to lovers, in a month because the heart wants what it wants, jilix are the bestest friends ever, jisung is canadian, jisung likes minho but he thinks he HATES him, minho is just a snarky little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gakddu/pseuds/gakddu
Summary: From where he was seated, it was hard to tell, but Jisung could've been able to tell blind. He was almost sure the man had put a spell on him, carving every single feature of his face deep in his subconscious so he wouldn't ever be able to forget. His high nose bridge, his plump lips, his daring eyes. Jisung's stomach boiled at that thought.Jisung quietly exhaled, "No fucking way.""What?" Hyunjin turned around to see where Jisung's eyes were fixated on.There he was. Lee Minho. It was like the world did not want to let go of them yet.Call it karma, Jisung thought."Who's that?" Hyunjin asked."That's the guy who broke my Christmas tree."orminho tries flirting with jisung but jisung mistakes him as a store employee, chaos ensues and follows them all the way through christmas day.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	1. stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a fic made to accompany you all the way until the end of december ˆˆ

"Yes, mom. No, I'm not getting a real tree, I'm getting one of the plastic fake ones." Jisung pushed his shopping cart with both hands, trapping his phone in between his left cheek and his shoulder, "Because they don't have those here. There's nothing I can do about it, mom. What? No! It's not because I don't want to murder the plants. Ma, seriously, ask dad, he's lived here before. Okay. I'll make sure to get the most realistic one. Love you too," Jisung finally breathed out, "Take care."

When Jisung ended the call and finally looked around, he immediately regretted not listening to Hyunjin. His next-door neighbour had told him there was a big store solely dedicated to selling Christmas stuff in Euljiro avenue, located in the most trendy downtown part of the city. Said store sold Christmas items and ornaments all year-round, and it was called the most original name ever, which was "Christmas Store". Jisung had mocked him right there and then. But now he regretted it. 

Jisung looked around again once again. He was in a regular home improvement store, it was large and flooded by fluorescent white lights and gray tiles. There were only two aisles designated for Christmas decorations; they were sandwiched between the Bathroom Taps and Sinks aisle and the Kitchen Splashbacks and Wall Panels aisle. It was all he had, instead of a whole three-story store with plenty to choose from. Jisung huffed.

There were technically ten types of trees available, but he quickly figured out he only had three to choose from. There was no way he could get away with picking the hot pink one, even though it was a decent size and he liked pink. His mom would be mad at his choice. He couldn't choose the inflatable tree either, as tempting as it sounded to him. His mom would be furious. So probably not the tree that was made out of fake pizza boxes either. 

Christmas meant a lot to Jisung's family. Especially this one.

Jisung was born on September 14th, 2000, in Richmond Hill, Ontario. That's where he spent his first five Christmases, and where his mother had spent all of hers. 

He remembers one specific memory of his last Christmas there. 

His parents had it all planned out. It was supposed to be a special Christmas for five-year-old Jisung, it was his first time meeting Santa, after all. They had taken him to the York-Durham Heritage Railway, where kids from all over the city had come to ride the train with Santa while he answered their questions about the North Pole and Christmas. It was a snowy night, sky full of stars and belief.

Jisung's parents' illusion ended rather quickly the minute Jisung saw the large bearded man in the red costume. He could not stop crying, asking for him to go away through small sobs. He hid behind his dad's legs, balled his little fists while streams of tears rolled down his cheeks. Santa was so scary. He did not want to see him ever again. There was nothing anyone could do, though, because the train had already pulled away from the station, and he was the only kid not extremely excited to see Santa Claus in all his merry glory. 

Jisung's dad cradled him in his arms and picked him up, walking to the outer end of the train and sitting on the last row, as farthest from the crowd as he could, with Jisung's mother next to him. 

"It's okay," he remembers him saying. "Hey, look at me, Ji."

Jisung looked up, eyes red and puffy, lip between his teeth, "I hate Christmas, daddy. I don't want to see Santa ever again. I never imagined him being so big and scary!"

His mom laughed softly, "That's okay. We can make Christmas work without Santa from now on."

"Really?" Jisung said, wide eyed, "That's impossible. How will the reindeers get here by themselves? Who will deliver the presents?"

"Ah, you see, he has a lot of elves for that reason. He will still deliver presents around the world, but he will be cautious around us. I will let him know our house is a No-Santa Zone. Elves are small, anyway, right? They can fit through our chimney."

"Exactly," His mom smiled reassuringly, "No more cookies and milk for Santa from now on."

"No!" Jisung almost screamed, scaring both of his parents, "No. The elves… The elves, they have to eat too, mom."

Their parents exchanged a look Jisung could not quite describe. "Of course, love."

Jisung fell asleep quickly after that, exhausted and cried out. Funnily enough, what he remembers the most is the limbo between being awake and falling asleep while riding the train. Draped in his father's lap, his mother stroking his hair softly, he looked out of the train's window with half lidded eyes full of sleep. The sky was midnight blue, stars scattered all around like rainbow sprinkles on his favorite ice cream. It looked endless. From what he knew back then, it might have been. He thought it to be, at that moment. With the belief that the sky would be endless growing in his chest, Jisung finally fell asleep. 

He doesn't remember much about Richmond Hill besides that, but he looks back at the city with much love. It was his mothers home, after all. He never had one stable place he could call home due to all the moving around they did. The most at home he ever felt was the holiday season. 

No matter how or where they spent it, be it in Toronto, assisting the Santa Claus parade after years of watching it only on TV, be it with his best friend's Felix and his family in Baie-Comeau, having a cookie-baking party, which would end up in a really bad case of indigestion. Or be it with the Lee's again, having a Révellion in their house and staying there to sleep over until the 25th, or be it only the three of them sharing hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies early in the morning; holiday season would always be his dad, his mom, and him. It would be with them, it had always been that way.

But this Christmas it wouldn't be. They would all be apart. His dad had to take a rush flight to Okayama, where his mother lived. She had unexpectedly fallen ill. His three-day stay turned to a one-week stay, which turned into a three-week stay, turned into the whole month of November, and by now, all of them knew he wouldn't be home by the 24th.

Jisung's mom stayed in Canada, her husband convincing her that that would be the best for her, to not come along with him. She would spend the Holidays with her sisters and her mother in their childhood home in Richmond Hill. 

And Jisung would be in Seoul. Jisung had moved to Korea almost a year ago to go to university. He had arrived in January, wide eyed and full of expectations of a new life, a life of _his own_ . He thought Seoul would be like Vancouver. It was, kind of, but not really. It was like Vancouver was a drunk person at a party about to pass out; Seoul would be the same person, but with a vodka-mixed-energy drink, _trying_ not to pass out, talking nonsense. 

Both were big cities. Both were full of people trying to make it. Jisung had lived in both for eleven months by now. He would describe Vancouver like this: full of nature, pleasant, nice, mind numbingly boring. Seoul: neon coloured, loud, fast-paced, alive. 

His parents had come to visit him four times, but he hadn't gone home once, and now, he was stuck in the capital due to visa and travel complications. On top of that, due to a mix-up with his exam dates, he ended up with two finals on Christmas Eve. So, Jisung was way too tired to do anything, massively sleep deprived, and incredibly homesick.

So, yes. A lot depended on this tree. 

Jisung decided on what his mom had told him: the most realistic looking one. That happened to be the biggest one. It was a scarily realistic looking tree, nothing like the skinny, plastic, sad looking green trees he saw everywhere. This one was a beautiful juniper colour, it was fuller and sturdier than the other ones. It still looked clearly fake, but it did the job of deceiving a little better. The exhibition tree was labeled '#7', so Jisung looked for boxes with that label. 

He spotted long boxes with '#7' printed on them on the highest shelf. Jisung stood on his tippy toes and extended his right arm, trying to reach as far as possible, but failing nonetheless. He still had about 1 meter and a half left. Jumping would be useless. 

He quickly turned around, searching for a ladder or something to help him out, but all he found was a man in an orange shirt staring at him. 

_An employee!_ Jisung thought. Of course there had to be an employee somewhere near, right? Jisung had spotted them all around the store, wearing neon bright coulored shirts.

He walked to him and asked, in the politest voice he could manage, "Hi. Could you help me bring that Christmas tree down, from that shelf up there?" He turned back to the big shelf and pointed to the tree he wanted, "I can't really reach it."”

The man looked like he hadn't been expecting Jisung to approach him and ask for his help at all, but the puzzled look on his eyes did not last much. It changed in a flicker, something igniting quickly in his eyes. He smiled like he'd been challenged.

"Of course, sure." He nodded and started moving to where Jisung had pointed. The way he walked reminded Jisung of a cat. He slightly swayed his hips as he walked, butt out, his steps seemingly calculated, showing off his black-denim covered long legs. Exactly like when cats wander around before stalking their prey, wiggling their butts at the moment right before pouncing.

"That is quite high," He gave Jisung a half smile and scratched the back of his neck. It was kind of endearing.

"Yeah, it is. I didn't have in mind that you're barely taller than me when I asked you for help."

"Hey, I'm a good five centimeters taller."

"Two."

"Four."

"Three."

"Let's settle on three," He winked and smirked, the corners of his mouth cockily perking up. "Don't worry, I've got a plan."

He disappeared to the other aisle for about forty seconds before making his way back, dragging two big sealed carton boxes across the floor. "I think these are hard enough for me to stand on." He stacked the boxes on top of each other, climbing them with ease. Yeah, he definitely reminded Jisung of a cat.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Jisung asked.

"Allowed?"

"Won't your boss be mad at you for damaging property, or something?" He was genuinely curious. He had never worked retail before, but Hyunjin currently did, and he always told him the most bizarre stories about it.

"Why would my b— Oh." It seemed as if sudden realization hit the feline-like employee like a truck. "Oh," he repeated, "Because I work here. Right."

Jisung laughed at his awkwardness, "Yeah?"

"Right. No, no." The employee said, reaching for the boxed tree, "No, she won't be mad. My boss is really cool."

"If you say so."

Jisung heard rummaging and moving, and wondered if asking the cute orange haired employee to help him had been a good idea. It had been about two minutes since he had stepped on the box-ladder. It seemed like he had frozen mid air.

"Uh, hey… Are you okay?"

"Me? Yes, I am fantastic. Why do y-" He tried turning his body to face Jisung instead of facing the shelf, but the sudden movement seemed to have made him gag. "Oh god, this is really high. Why, why do you ask?"

Jisung stifled a laugh. "Are you afraid of heights? You didn't have to help me. I could've asked anyone else in the store, you know."

"It's my duty as an employee to s—" He swallowed thickly and looked back to the shelf, shaking his head slightly, as if he were silently cursing himself, "to serve my customers. I'm almost done, anyway."

It all went downhill from there. As soon as he said the words "I've got the box!" and slightly turned around, the weight of his body and the long boxed with the fake tree inside became too much for the carton boxes, making them crease and crumple beneath his feet. The orange haired employee stumbled back for support, but it was a wrongly calculated move, because there was nowhere to step on. In the blink of an eye, he was on the floor, slight discomfort across his face.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I almost got you killed. Are you okay?" Jisung kneeled down next to him and placed his hand in front of his face, two fingers up like a peace sign. "How many fingers do you see?" 

The orange haired man tried to stand up, lifting his body with his forearms but failing. He did manage to raise his arms and motioned his hand in a gesture that indicated Jisung to come closer, and so he did.

"Five."

"Ohhhh no, this is bad."

The man reached for Jisung's hand and held it in his for a brief moment, "One, two three," he counted as he tapped each finger in Jisung's hand very carefully, "four, five."

Jisung looked at him. The man was laying on the floor, flat on his back, the boxed Christmas tree over his chest. He still had that sly grin on his face, even after falling on his ass from an incredibly sad attempt of a ladder. 

"Five fingers," he repeated.

"Ha, ha." Jisung deadpanned.

"I'm good, just help me up, will ya?"

"On it."

Jisung stood up and extended a hand to him. Him and the employee clasped hands as he got up slowly. 

As he stood in front of him, Jisung finally allowed himself to fully look at the man. Jisung had been so focused on getting his tree, he'd barely looked at him. The first thing he noticed was that he had a mole on the left side of his nose. His whole face looked like it had been painted very delicately with watercolours, and the artist decided to end their work by adding a little dot on his nose to make their work even more unique and special. 

Now that Jisung was really paying attention to him, he realized his eyes were a big reason why he thought the employee resembled a cat. His eyes were beautifully sharp, and they were quick. His gaze followed everything swiftly and quickly, followed things like they would be gone at any second, like they would vanish. He looked at things like he had to be the first and last one to look at them. 

It was kind of funny. Even when he blinked, it seemed to tell some kind of story. His eyes opened and closed like the aperture of an old camera. His stare made it seem as if he looked at things like he was made to remember every detail of every picture his eyes took. 

And his lips… Ah, his lips. He had been staring at them before. Jisung cleared his throat. "Nothing hurt?"

The cat-like employee laughed, "My ego, a little. I really thought it wouldn't be that high."

"It wasn't that bad of a fall. What should be hurting your ego should be the scared face you made when you realized you were standing higher than you thought," Jisung smiled at him and picked the long box that contained the Christmas tree from the ground. He balanced it between both of his arms, holding it like it were a giant baseball bat.

"Hey!" the employee called him, "I wear my acrophobia badge proudly. Humans are meant to stay on earth, grounded at their feet."

Jisung could argue with him on that, but he decided against it. He turned around to move the carton boxes back to their places when he heard a loud _smack._ It was more like a _thud,_ really.

When he turned around, he realized that the moment he turned around, he had hit the employee straight in the face with the part of the long box that swung over his shoulder. 

"Fuck!" Jisung dropped the tree again and rushed to his side, "I'm so sorry. I promise I'm not someone anyone you know hired to try to kill you. Oh my god. That makes me sound more guilty, doesn't it?"

Cat-employee held the part of his face that had been hit with his hand. He had been struck on the right part of the jaw, half of his cheek, and almost the eye too, it seemed. His face was red from the blow, and this time, he did have a pained expression on his face. "Are you sure? First one was totally on me, but you just swung a giant large box to my face." There was no malice in his voice, his tone remained friendly and relaxed. 

"I should take you to get that checked. Is there an infirmary here, or some sort of aid kit in the staff room?"

Jisung could've sworn the orange haired man almost looked lost for a few seconds. He regained his smile and said "Yes, just follow me."

After it seemed like three aimless rounds of walking the store, the employee finally took him to a white door hidden by construction materials put on display. They entered what appeared to be some sort of small break room.There was not much to it; a large futon, a wooden table with a couple of chairs, a fridge, two pantries, a coffee machine and a microwave. Nothing decorated the room. Not even a plant, or an ugly painting. It was just bare orange walls with chipped paint.

"You should sit," Jisung said, "Do you have ice?"

"Uh, yes. Its on the up..no, bottom part of the fridge."

He quickly grabbed it and placed it on top of the employee's red face. "It will bruise. I'm sorry, again."

"It's okay, don't sweat it. Things like this happen." He gave him a tight lipped smile. "Hey, I just realized I never asked you wh—"”

  
  


The sound of the door opening startled both of them. A shorter man entered. He was quite rugged and his hair was bleached blonde beyond belief. He too had a neon orange shirt, with a tag that said "ASSISTANT STORE MANAGER: CHAN". 

Now that Jisung had a visual comparison, he noticed that Cat-employee and Assistant Store Manager Chan's shirts were quite different. The only thing they had in common was that they were hues of orange.

The store manager wore a polo shirt, with the logo of the store threaded in white on the pocket that rested on the left breast of the shirt. It was a very bright colour, too. Almost obnoxiously so. The pretty employee's shirt was definitely not that. It did not have a collar, or buttons, or a pocket. It was a thin, plain cotton orange shirt with nothing on it. It was a very warm tangerine colour, almost. Jisung observed, but didn't think too much about it. 

Truth be told, as soon as the man stepped in the room, Jisung exhaled in relief. 

He had been wondering about the legal aspects of this situation. Even though he and the cat looking employee didn't seem to have any problems about the situation, he wasn't so sure about how his employers, bosses or the company itself would see it. Causing physical harm on an employee? That was a lawsuit for him, for sure. Han Jisung, sued for assault: Almost knocking out a man that resembled a curious kitten in the face with a boxed Christmas tree. 

He couldn't imagine further than that. He was utterly broke. He could not handle a lawsuit of any kind. 

"Oh, hi sir.. Assistant Manager Chan? Sir Manager Chan. I'm Jisung." Jisung was already off the futon, standing with his back straight in front of the blond man, one hand extended on an attempt for a handshake. The man looked at him reluctantly but took his hand and shook it firmly, a little skeptically. "Well, um… There have been a few mishaps. Your employee here," Jisung gestured at the man sitting, "was helping me get something, and… It's a long story. Thing is, he ended up with his face hurt and it was my fault. It was totally accidental." Jisung assured him. "I hope that's not a problem for me? I already talked it out with him but I don't really know how things proceed here." 

The man stared at him wordlessly. He stared at him, eyes darting to Cat-employee, then darting back at Jisung, eyeing him up and down, incredulously. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jisung," he repeated, "And this is… Well, I don't know, exactly. But he works here!"

Sir Manager Chan looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and a grimace. His expression oozed pity. "No, he doesn't, _Jisung_." He said his name like it were almost a sad joke, spitting each syllable mockingly. "I've never seen this man in my entire life."

Jisung turned to face the orange haired man. He was hiding his face between his hands, ice pack between his thighs.

"Hah, so, about that..." Jisung didn't need to hear any further.

"Awh, fuck."

"Oh, for fucks sake. You both are so stupid. Get out of my store." Sir Manager Chan didn't sound upset, he just sounded done. Beyond annoyed.

"I am so sorry—" Jisung barely sputtered out before the man cut him off. 

"I don't have the time for this, kid. My boss is actually going to kill me if he sees a pair of beat up strangers in the staff room. Ah, there was a break in before. And he blames it on me! " he flared his arms up, clearly more heated than before, "No, no, this can't happen again. Just get out of here."

"But the tr—"

"I don't care! Just take it! Get out!" He pointed at a back door, a door only meant for staff to get in and out of the building easily.

Jisung's mouth was agape, embarrassment splashed all over his face. The taller man finally got up, grabbed the large box from the ground and headed towards the door. 

"Well, Jisung, let's get out of here. Don't wanna get in trouble, do you?" He said, suppressing a laugh, cocky smile hanging from his lips. Jisung couldn't believe his eyes. 

He hurried towards the door and left with the man he now realized was a complete stranger, and a total conundrum. 

The Assistant Manager shut the door to their faces as soon as they got out. They found themselves standing on a street Jisung wasn't familiar with. He assumed they were at the back of the store, a large alleyway with a lot of parked cars and bikes.

"So," the stranger spoke, "Hi."

Jisung did not know where to begin, so he went with the most obvious question, "What the hell was that?"

"I think we just stole a tree," he said as if it were an accomplishment and totally not a felony. "Well, he sort of gave it to us, to be honest."

"Who even are you?"

"I'm Minho," he smiled, "And you're Jisung, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Nice to meet you. Properly, at least."

"Nice to m— No, hold on. _Who even are you?_ " he repeated.

He chuckled, "I'm just a man." Minho's usual cocky smile sat on his lips. Jisung wanted to wipe that stupid expression off his face.

"Cut the crap, Minho. If that even is your real name." Now that Jisung had some clarity, he realized the whole situation with Minho had been really sketchy from the beginning. What was the point of pretending to be an employee? Was he going to scam him or something? Was he a con-artist? Jisung said as he thought, "Are you trying to scam me?"

Minho's face flushed, "What? No! I was just helping you out." Jisung looked at him, expecting a more elaborate answer, so Minho resumed. "Well, I thought I was. I thought you asked for my help because you realized I was checking you out, I thought you were flirting with me, so I started flirting back, but then I realized you believed I was an employee." Minho was speaking fastly, a light pink tint spreading across his nose and cheeks. Jisung couldn't tell if he was actually embarrassed or just wanted to get this situation over with. "Thought it could be a fun thing and that I could eventually get your number."

Jisung stared at him, nonplussed. Minho's entire demeanor was too sprightly, and not to look down on himself, but Jisung thought Minho to be way too pretty to hit on him. Pretty enough to weaponize it and use it to his favour. He was definitely a con-artist of some sort. Minho could see Jisung wasn't buying it. 

The orange haired stranger reached with his hand into his pocket and took out a worn out black leather wallet. He fingered through it and picked out a card, "See. _Lee Minho._ "

Jisung looked at it. _Lee Minho. 1998. 10. 25._

"You're older than me."

"You thought I wasn't?"

"You look my age."

"How old are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jisung looked at him mockingly, snatching the tree off Minho's hands. He started walking towards the corner of the street, trying to find an out of the alleyway. 

"Is that a challenge?" Minho caught up to him, "Wait, you're legal, right?"

"Yes, I am. Why are you still following me? God, you're really like a cat."

"Are you forgetting that you socked me in the face with that?" Minho pointed at the box.

Jisung stopped dead in his tracks, appalled. "So this is my fault? Are you forgetting that you totally tricked me into believing you worked for a corporation you don't and basically made me steal?"

Minho examined Jisung's face very carefully. He looked like he was enjoying riling up the smaller stranger. Jisung was _definitely_ irritated.

"How about we fix this? You'll buy an ice pack for my poor bruised face and I'll take you out on a date. Sounds like a fair deal?"

Jisung let himself toy with the idea of going on a date with the handsome stranger for a a little too long before answering flatly, "No. No, it doesn't." 

Minho just smiled, releasing a soft huff. "Okay. Fair enough. You still owe me, you know, you damaged my most precious asset."

Minho's bruise had started to darken, red and pinkish tones absolutely gone. The bruise had turned into a dark blotch, resembling messily spread mulberry and deep blueberry jam. It traveled all across from the bottom of his jaw, spread all across the outer side of his cheek and ended at the bottom corner of his eye.

Jisung wondered how Minho managed to look so captivating and delicate despite having half of his face bruised. 

Jisung inhaled deeply, staring away from Minho. He dug out his wallet and placed a 10,000 won bill on Minho's hand. "Here you go. Have a nice day."

He was already halfway down the street when he heard Minho shout, "Happy holidays, Jisung!" he could hear his laughter mix in with his words. 

When Jisung arrived at his apartment, he was sure he'd dodged a bullet. Yes, a handsome, intriguing, weird, definitely-kissable-but-wouldn't-admit-it bullet. But a bullet nonetheless. He had been so wrong. It was exactly a week later when he ran into him while doing Christmas gift shopping with Hyunjin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is minho actually a con-artist.... will we ever find out? no one knows. please leave comments and kudos they fill my heart and make me so happy!!


	2. us, under the night sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung goes to the mall with Hyunjin and he spots Minho, a week after their whole Christmas tree fiasco. How he goes from wanting to curse at his face for ruining his week to getting kicked out from a café and getting lost at night with him, only he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i completely changed the entire plot bc i Hated w a capital H how the story was going .. Hahha.. anyway.... here this goes

"Hyunjin, you don't understand," Jisung complained for the nth time that week, "most of the tree branches were completely broken or bent! And I think he only dropped it once! I don't know if I'm more upset about the bad quality of the product or the fact that all of this happened because of that Minho guy."

"Mhhmmm," Hyunjin hummed as he put a spoonful of strawberry cheesecake in his mouth. It was a Friday afternoon, almost exactly a week after the whole tree fiasco. Jisung and Hyunjin had gone to the mall to buy gifts for a Secret Santa party they were attending. They sat in a small café placed right in the middle of the mall, it had its tables outside so their customers could see all the stores, boutiques and people passing by as they enjoyed their meal. 

Jisung hated the impersonality of the place, but Hyunjin had been insistent. He claimed it was the perfect location to _drunk-mock_ strangers as they passed by and judge them by their outfits and shopping bags. Jisung refuted by saying that since they wouldn't even be drunk, it would just be mocking strangers for their personal fashion choices. Hyunjin replied with a simple 'tomato-tomato' and a shrug. 

"—just can't believe he disrupted my day like that, y'know? If he wanted to flirt, there are different ways around it. It was so embarrassing, Hyunjin, the whole thing! Ah, you should've seen him. He's one of those people who," Jisung sipped on his syrup-filled iced americano as his tried to find the words for the feeling bubbling in his chest, eyebrows furrowed in overdue annoyance, "who just think they can get away with anything because they look a certain way."

Hyunjin stared at him, deadpan. 

"What?"

"Are you even hearing yourself?" 

Jisung blinked at him, confused.

"This isn't about your damn tree."

"Hyunjin," Jisung started before he got cut off.

"No, you listen to me, Sungie. You've complained relentlessly about this since Saturday, the day it happened. I just think it's so funny how you keep saying it's about the tree but every time you mention the guy ten times more than the actual broken thing." Hyunjin raised his eyebrows suggestively, but was completely dismissed by his friend. "You talk about him more than the fact that you accidentally breached the law, which, for you is like, the most illegal and exciting thing you'll do in your entire lifetime. Are you sure you're not hung up on the fact that you finally stumbled upon an interesting, handsome man, which was into you, by the way, and rejected him without giving him a chance?"

Jisung purposefully focused on the most insulting part of the whole monologue Hyunjin had let out. "I am not that boring. The most exciting thing I've done was blow my best friend after church."

"You blew Felix after church?" Hyunjin asked, "not even _at_ church?"

"At church? Are you crazy?" The mere thought of being found out by Felix's insanely religious French-Canadian family sent shivers down Jisung's spine. He shook it off. "Okay, maybe I haven't lived life like people in Skins did, but I had fun in different ways." Jisung actually meant that. He did not know if moving around so much had shaped him to become an ambivert, but he identified as one. He was quiet, but he wasn't shy. He could adapt and blend in well, and had the ability to make friends quite fast. He'd easily find things in common with the people at his new schools, like anime, niche bands or some really specific wildlife animal. He thanked his short attention span for giving him time to immerse himself in different things every weekend, finding a new interest or hobby to bond over with someone.

Even though he was friendly with everyone, Jisung was very careful about who he spent his time with and how he spent it. He'd met two of his closest friends, Jeongin and Felix, at the elective creative writing class in one of the high schools he attended in Ottawa. The three of them went everywhere together. Anime conventions, skate parks, malls, movies. Compared to Hyunjin's high school stories, it all seemed pretty mild and boring, but Jisung couldn't say anything to that because he was right. That had been Jisung's teenage experience: mild and boring. 

It all changed when Felix moved back to Baie-Comeau because his father's contract in Ottawa came to an end. Jisung remembers being heartbroken, until two days later, when his own father told him they were moving there themselves because Mr. Lee and him had been working on making him a company associate for some time. Those last two years were arguably more exciting. 

"Don't do that. You're completely dismissing my point about Minjun."

"Minho," Jisung corrected. "Maybe you're right about the fact that I'm a little mad that someone who wasn't a complete asshole or a straight guy was finally interested in me, but that's about it. I'm more upset about the fact that he ruined my Christmas tree."

"If you say so, Sungie." Hyunjin took another bite of his cheesecake. "You know, if you wanted to buy another one you could have easily bought one." Hyunjin lowered his voice and whispered, "Or a hundred."

Jisung dragged his teeth. "I'm broke."

"You're literally rich, Jisung."

"For the billionth time, I'm not!"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Okay, you're not, but your family—"

"I don't want their money." Jisung knew his floor mate meant well. Hyunjin did not understand the concept of having family money and not using it. He said it was like sitting on a toilet made of gold and shitting on your pants instead. Regardless, as soon as he heard Jisung's serious tone, he knew it was the moment to stop pushing. 

"Anyway, Jisung, what I'm trying to say is that you've been blabbing about this guy you claim ruined your day in a way that seems quite the opposite. Like, for a week straight, buddy. If you don't like him or anything, just let it go."

"But—"

"No buts. Just let it go. It's not like you're ever going to see him again or anything. And you did bruise his face, so I guess you're kind of even." 

Jisung sighed. "I guess you're right."

Hyunjin hummed in agreement for the first time since they had sat down at their table and gave Jisung a small tight lipped smile, "Now, enough of this guy. I've heard too much about him for someone who hasn't even made first base with you." Jisung shot a pinched expression at Hyunjin.

Not even five minutes after Hyunjin said that, Jisung noticed a full head of orange hair in front of a store called "ZOO PLANET: Pet Grooming and Supplies". 

The first thought that crossed Jisung's mind embarrassed him. He had thought of Minho. It was almost a little pathetic, how one time meeting the man had left him completely drunk off him, unable to shake him off his thoughts. 

Jisung almost ignored it. Until the man turned around, and Jisung's breath caught in his throat. He recognized him instantly. All the feelings he'd been trying to ignore all week flooded his mind like a broken dam.

From where he was seated, it was hard to tell, but Jisung could've been able to tell blind. He was almost sure Minho had put a spell on him, carving every single feature of his face deep in his subconscious so he wouldn't ever be able to forget. His high nose bridge, his plump lips, his daring eyes. Jisung's stomach boiled at that thought. 

Jisung quietly exhaled, "No fucking way."

"What?" Hyunjin turned around to see where Jisung's eyes were fixated on.

There he was. Lee Minho. It was like the world did not want to let go of them yet. _Call it karma_ , Jisung thought. 

"Who's that?" Hyunjin asked.

"That's the guy who broke my Christmas tree."

* * *

Jisung hastily walked over to the pet store. He was about to tap Minho on the shoulder but was met with a brusque move by Minho's part. He abruptly turned his back on Jisung, handing a flyer to a passersby. 

"Even if it's not Turtle Tuesday, it's Reptile Friday! Hey, and it's Safari Week! Would you like to get a picture wi— Hey! It's you!" Jisung was greeted by bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Minho was dressed in safari gear from head to toe, a camera around his neck and a stack of flyers clasped between his hand. Not what Jisung had been expecting at all. 

He did not know why, but he had expected Minho to react rudely as soon as he saw him again. He had the right to. Jisung had been kind of an asshole to him. Jisung changed the bitchy greeting he had lingering on the tip of his tongue to the first thing that came to his mind, "Nice safari hat." 

"It's called a pith helmet, actually." Minho said playfully. "Hi, Jisung."

"Hey." He did not know what to say next. The plan he'd crafted in the 30 seconds he had from the table to Minho had been to go to him and spout about the whole situation that had happened a week ago. But now it seemed stupid and ridiculous to do so. Minho had clearly moved on. He didn't have a tinge of resentment on his face, even though Jisung could clearly see the bluish green bruise peek through his badly applied concealer. "So, Reptile Friday?"

"Yes! You can take pictures with our friends from the Reptile Rescue Center!" Minho beamed, "They visit us once a month to try to get people to adopt the little guys."

"So you have an actual job that's not unlawful..."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Jisung blushed profusely. He thought he had kept that inside his brain. 

"Oh, right. You thought I was some sort of delinquent. That's so funny, Jisung," he said comfortably, "you know, I might be one just on the weekends. You never know." Minho winked at him.

Jisung walked a fine line. Between annoyance and magnetism. He convinced himself it was definitely annoyance. He was about to reply when a man emerged from the pet store and shouted, "Minho, do we pay you to flirt? Get back to work!"

"You don't even pay me, Bomin! You're my coworker! Shut up!"

"I will tell our boss!"

"Fuckin' kissass!" Minho raised a middle finger even though the man had already turned his back on him. He exhaled and his cheery expression returned when he looked at Jisung. "Well, I guess I have to get back to work. Nice seeing you here."

Minho gave him a last warm smile and Jisung felt his stomach turn. 

Jisung was conflicted. He felt too much at once. Alas, he took all that he felt into consideration.

Jisung felt _want_. He wanted Minho to stay, even though he did not have a good reason to tell him to. He wanted a chance to properly apologize for being a jerk. He wanted to touch the slope of his nose and see if it really was as straight as it looked. He just _wanted_.

Jisung felt vexation, too. He was vexed at his stupid safari uniform. At his dumb, big cat eyes. Vexed every time he winked or every time he gave him a coy smile. It made Jisung want to smack Minho. He wanted to smack him with his lips. On his lips. Against a wall. 

_Wait, what?_

"Wait, Minho."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry for the other day. It's just," Jisung exhaled, trying to find the right words without sounding like he was making excuses, "It's just a stressful time for me. It was just… yeah. I'm really sorry."

Minho looked at him. "Sorry about what?"

Jisung swallowed. He knew Minho knew what he meant, but he couldn't even find it in himself to be upset about it. Minho was being fair. "About everything. Mostly about bruising your face, making you fall and being kind of an ass."

"Kind of?"

"Okay, maybe a complete ass."

"I think you weren't an ass, but a moody mothe—"

"You're making me regret apologizing at all." Minho softly smiled at him, and Jisung felt like his job had been done. _Maybe. Not really. Not at all._ "Well, then. I didn't know I would run into you but I'm glad I did, and that we could patch things up." 

"Yeah,"

"Bye, Minho," Jisung did not know if he should smile at him, so he just awkwardly waved goodbye.

Jisung felt words bubbling in his throat, words that were made up of invisible letters and lacked meaning. Words with no sound, that died before they reached his mouth. He just wanted to say something more. _Should I stay?_

_Maybe. Not really. Not at all._

"Wait, is that it?"

Jisung had already turned around when he heard Minho speak. He turned on his heels and looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, you're serious. That was seriously it."

"What do you mean?"

"You see, Jisung, I don't think we ran into each other out of mere coincidence," the blithe tone he had been speaking with before was gone, but his characteristic smile stood imprinted on his lips, "I think it's destiny." Minho said these last words like they were words recited from a bible. An oath, a promise. Jisung laughed.

"Sure, Minho. Call it fate. Whatever makes you sleep at night."

"I'm serious." Minho's eyes were big and they were gleaming. There wasn't a hint of mockery in his tone. Jisung thought that by now he would be able to tell when he was being teased by the older boy. So, Jisung considered, again. 

Jisung wanted to be annoyed. He related that feeling to being with Minho. But as of right now, he was unable to feel anything close to that, instead he felt something deep inside him, something that clawed at his stomach and asked him for _more, more, more_.

He decided it was curiosity, nothing else. He decided he felt intrigued, because, how could he not be? Minho was a hungry thunderstorm and Jisung was a red desert begging to be disrupted. 

Minho was what Jisung had been searching for, even years before he even planned leaving. Minho was exactly what Jisung needed. Something unexpected, something new, something rare, something unique that just made him _feel_ with no explanation needed and made him never want to let go. _Someone._

Jisung ignored every thought he had, pushing them back as far as possible. He went back to square one. He was not annoyed, he couldn't be, he was just intrigued. 

Jisung was not one to stay curious for long.

"You know what? Maybe you are. Let me buy you a coffee, then. As an apology."

"Okay?" Minho asked with a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"After your shift ends?"

Minho stifled a laugh. "That'll be in a while. It's, uhm," he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. "3:12 PM. My shift ends at seven sharp."

"That's fine by me."

Minho narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, looking dubious. "Okay, but one condition."

"Yeah?"

"Take me anywhere but here. I'm sick of this mall."

Jisung smiled at that and left without saying goodbye. As soon as Minho was out of sight, all of the confidence he'd pulled out of his ass to maintain the last minute of the conversation looking cool and collected crumbled to pieces. 

* * *

He couldn't ignore where his train of thought had taken him, just a few minutes ago.

_Minho. Someone. Minho. Someone. Minho. Someone._

_Minho._

He couldn't.

But he would. He'd ignore it, because thoughts were that. Just thoughts. 

He couldn't help but think back to one evening at Felix's. They had walked back from school to an empty house, both of his friend's parents already absent for long. His father was gone on a business trip, and his mother long gone on a mission trip for over a month.

He remembers laying besides Felix in his unmade bed. It smelled like lavender shampoo and days of sweat.

"You think too much, Jisungie. Just stop thinking."

"I don't know how you can say that," Jisung confessed.

"Why?" Felix's voice was relaxed. His fingers were intertwined with Jisung's. It was common for them now, holding hands, touching. It had become a habit.

"You know. Because of your… situation," Jisung bit his tongue, already regretting his words, "I'm just saying, you have a lot on your plate to not care and not think about consequences."

"Do you really want to go there right now?" 

"I just— I'm just trying to say—" Jisung breathed out, giving up, "Why did you kiss me, Felix?"

Felix sat up. He crossed his legs and stared at Jisung right in the eyes. "Because I wanted to. And because you told me you had been wanting to do it too."

"Okay, but Lix, we—"

Felix puffed his cheeks and pursed his lips. He took his glasses off and put them on the nightstand, and looked at Jisung again. "It doesn't matter, Jisung. We are best friends. I know you. I know _us_. We're us, before anything else."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jisung had not meant it to sound so bitter. He was just confused. He could not understand how Felix could care so little about something like this. Something as precious as them.

Ever since they kissed, it had been the only thing Jisung had been able to think about. He could not stop thinking about the consequences of it, the end of their friendship, the aftermath. But then the next day came and Felix greeted him like the sunlight greets a summer morning, nothing but warmth. Nothing had changed. So Jisung began to overthink more. Yet here his best friend was, saying it did not matter. 

"Do you see yourself being my boyfriend?"

"What? Are you asking me out? Because, Felix, I—"

"Can you just shut up and answer quickly?"

First thought. "No."

"Do you see yourself marrying me?"

"We are sixteen."

Felix shot him a glare. _First thought._ "No."

"Do you see yourself falling in love with me, or even liking me?"

Jisung winced. Felix was definitely asking beforehand so he couldn't be rejected. He didn't want to even think about hurting him, but he had to be honest. "You're my favourite person on earth, Felix. I love you so much. I… No, not really, Lix. But we—"

Felix beamed. "So it doesn't really matter, Jisung. I kissed you because I trust you. We are best friends. I know you. I know _us_. We're us, before anything else." he repeated this with the same honest voice, like he had it carved so deep in his heart it was the only thing he believed in, "So, it doesn't matter. Just stop thinking so much."

"Okay."

"Okay."

A few minutes passed in silence before Jisung mustered up the courage to ask what had been on his mind for a while, "You seem like you have it all figured out. Even with your parents and all… You seem so happy. You always manage to shine, despite all of that."

"It's because I am." Felix squeezed Jisung's hand softly, caressing it with his thumb, "And you? Are you not happy?"

"I… I don't know. I mean, I am happy. I have to be, right? I have everything. I am healthy, I have parents that love me, I am doing well in school and I have you and Jeongin. But then there's my brain, and it's just…" he hesitated, but then Felix's words resounded in his brain: _We are best friends. I know you. I know us. We're us, before anything else._

"I think my mind is fucked. It all becomes too much, you know?

"I do."

"You do?"

"How do you think I stopped giving a d—" Felix closed his eyes softly and traced a shape in the air over his body, echoing the shape of a cross. Jisung knew it by heart by observing Felix: forehead, chest, right shoulder, left shoulder. "Sorry, how do you think I stopped caring so much?" Felix looked up at his ceiling and said, "Tell me all about your brain."

"Well, first of all, it's a bully. It won't leave me alone. I know I shouldn't be having these thoughts, right? But they won't leave me. And it's not like I want to kill myself or anything, either, it's just," he bit the insides of his cheeks, trying to find the right words but feeling like none of the words he knew described what he felt accurately enough, "I just feel like there's something missing. And I believe it. I feel like I'm wandering around with my eyes closed. That I will never be able to be completely happy, like I can't be happy despite having everything because I'm just not enough." Jisung's gaze had shifted to his hands involuntarily, too embarrassed to meet Felix's own. He slowly lifted his gaze and was met with soft brown eyes. Warmth settled in his chest, and he had the courage to go on, "Sometimes my brain just… It turns on me, Felix. It makes me afraid of my future and so scared of existing, it calls me names, and makes me long for something that doesn't exist and it's just… And it's all become a reality now. I can't stop thinking about it and it drives me insane. "

"So just stop."

Jisung hummed in a questioning manner.

"It feels like your thoughts are torturing you. But.. you take what you think too at heart. You believe that if you have a thought, no matter how vicious it is, as long as it says something, it must be true, because it's yours, right? It must mean something." Felix asked and Jisung nodded slowly, "No matter how mean your mind is to you, you trust it. Therein lies the problem, Young Jedi." Jisung felt himself ease at the name, something they always called each other along with Jeongin when they thought things were getting too serious, when they wanted to comfort each other secretly. It was some sort of code. "It tortures you, but you come back to it. You worship what it says, in a way. In what other situation would you ever want to worship your own torturer?"

"Felix," Jisung scooted closer to him, in awe, "It really shows that you go to church. Have you ever missed a Sunday speech?"

"A _homily_ , Jisung." he reached for his nightstand again, this time grabbing his sealed can of pop and lifted the tab open, "I know abrasive thoughts feel asphyxiating. But I don't know if the problem is that our brian gives them to us, but what we do with them. I feel like we're bound to have them no matter what. Just because your mind says the world's going to end tomorrow it doesn't mean it actually is." Felix sipped quietly and offered Jisung the same can.

"But it feels like it. So much that I start to believe it's true."

"Oh, I know." he said, "I used to think liking boys would send me to hell. And that I would die of some horrible disease, that I would burn for eternity. But then I looked around, and I just… Don't treat your mind as a trustworthy source of information, especially about the things that make you anxious." 

Felix made everything sound so simple. "Are you telling me to stop thinking?"

"No, dummy. I'm telling you that our minds are just doing what minds do. Your mind is going to do what it wants, which is think. You don't have control over every single little thought that roams your mind, especially the awful ones. I don't think anyone does." Felix reached for Jisung's face, placing his palm gently on his cheek, cupping it. "The important thing is not what thoughts you have, it's what you do when you have them."

"And what do I do with them?"

"Don't take it your thoughts, or your brain, too seriously. Don't believe everything it says. Just because your mind is doing its job, it doesn't mean that what it says means something. It's just… Background noise."

"So, when I'm overthinking it's like, brain farts? No, no. Fart noises in my head?"

Felix let a chuckle escape his lips and Jisung felt accomplished, sipping slowly. "Yes, Jisung, you could say that. Treat it as such, exactly like when you hear Jeongin fart: ignore it and move on. It's just a random neuron firing in your brain. It means nothing. Thoughts are thoughts."

Jisung stopped reminiscing and sat on an empty bench. 

Felix had been right, even as a dumb sixteen year old. _Stop taking everything too seriously._

Thoughts are not facts, thoughts are not meaningful, because thoughts are just that: thoughts.

* * *

Jisung took Minho to a cozy café five blocks away from the mall. The place was adorned with fairy lights. Candy canes hung from the ceiling, as well as mistletoes from the door frames. They settled on the terrace, on two crimson coloured sofas positioned in front of each other with a small coffee table in between them. 

"When you invited me for coffee I thought you were a coffee person, but I was so wrong." Minho said as he eyed Jisung's drink.

"This is coffee." 

"That's dessert in a cup."

Jisung feigned an offended expression, taking a sip of his iced drink. "It has coffee in it, so, technically, it's a caffeinated drink."

"If I remember your order correctly, it's a Gingerbread Frappuccino with extra gingerbread syrup, extra whipped cream, additional chocolate chips, extra nutmeg and cinnamon and in your words, _'please, make the coffee decaf._ '"

"What?" Jisung shrugged shamelessly, "I already had coffee today. Plus, this reminds me of home." 

Genuine interest flashed in Minho's eyes. "Home?"

"Yes. I'm from overseas."

"Well, duh. That much I could tell. Your accent is a dead giveaway. And the way you use an English word every three sentences, _man_."

Jisung half-cringed, half-melted at that. "Where overseas, Jisung?"

"Well..."

"Our situation is kind of unfair, you know." Minho said all of a sudden.

"How come?"

"You know so much about me already. You know my full name, my date of birth and my workplace. But I know nothing about you, Jisung with no family name." Jisung smiled at him, and said nothing. Minho took this as an opportunity.

"I'm from an interesting foreign land too."

"Really? Where?"

"Gimpo."

Jisung burst in laughter and Minho did too. Jisung's body was starting to become at ease, and he felt like he could almost let go. "It's Han."

"Where is that?"

"It's my family name, idiot. I'm from Canada."

There was a beat of silence until Minho asked, "Why does the gingerbread drink remind you of home? I didn't know Canada was known for gingerbread cookies."

"It isn't. It's not Canada what's home. I mean, it is. But it's more than that, _you know_?" The last words naturally slipped in English, a habit Minho had just pointed out. Jisung noticed, and apparently Minho did too, because he smiled as Jisung's ears turned instantly red. "It's sort of dumb, but my best friend was really into baking. Well, he is. He used to make these really good gingerbread cookies and we would do cookie exchange parties on Christmas season. It just reminds me of that."

"That's so sweet." Minho said sincerely, "Well, you're going home for the holidays, I assume? You'll see him there and taste his cookies!"

Jisung's expression wavered. "Uh, not really. That was why I was getting a tree the other day. Which, by the way, is broken."

"You get what you pay for." Minho said simply. 

"I didn't even get to—"

"Exactly." Minho's devilish grin was back on his face. But something that was back, with full force, was Jisung's urge to stamp a kiss on Minho's mouth to shut him up. Just for that purpose. To shut him up, of course. 

Jisung bit on his straw and breathed through his nose. Minho was so _exasperating_. "What are you doing for Christmas?" he asked.

Minho's expression shifted slightly but he composed himself quickly. "I'll be at home with my cats. Ah, they're my everything. Have I told you about them?"

Jisung didn't miss a beat. "What about your family?"

Minho's expression darkened. "They are my family, Jisung."

It took awhile for Jisung to properly process Minho's answer. The concept of not having a family was so foreign and alien to him he almost forgot it was a reality to most people around him. He often forgot how lucky he was, and how much he took for granted his parents' love and acceptance of who he was, their health and income. How he took for granted everything he had for years.

Jisung mentally slapped himself. "Ah, yes. What are their names?" He gave the man in front of him a faint smile, slightly apologetic. Minho accepted it.

"Soonie, Doongie and Dori!" Minho smiled as if the sour moment had never occurred. "Do you want to see them?" Jisung nodded and Minho pulled out his phone. He didn't even unlock it, showing Jisung his lockscreen. It was three kitties laying on a patterned sofa. The biggest kitty was striped and ginger with chubby white paws. The one besides it was ginger too, but the predominant fur colour was white. And lastly, the tiniest kitten, a tabby gray one with the tips of his paws white as well.

"Oh god, look at the little one with chubby white paws!" Jisung almost squirmed in his seat. He had never been an animal person, per se, but he could not deny the cuteness of the cats Minho was showing him. They were so cute, and so small, and so soft looking. 

"That's Dori," he said with fondness, "he's the youngest out of the three of them. The biggest one is Soonie, I've had him for the longest, and the one being squeezed in the middle is Doongie."

"How long since you've had them?"

"Soonie since I was in middle school. Doongie was a stray that followed me home for weeks, I got him a couple of years ago. And Soonie joined us just last year. That's my little harem of boys." Minho unlocked his phone and searched for something for a few seconds. When he found it, he showed the bright phone screen to Jisung. It was a video of him laying on the ground of a big apartment, with a sleepy, much smaller Dori on his chest. Soonie was sitting next to his head, guarding him as he lulled himself and his cats to sleep, a small smile on his face. And Doongie was everywhere. Running around, jumping from his owners' legs to the couch, to the coffee table, to a thick scratch perch wrapped with rope. 

The video ended, but Jisung's eyes lingered on the paused screen for a few seconds. 

It was almost unfair, Jisung thought, how Minho looked when he drifted to sleep. His long black eyelashes rest prettily against his high cheekbones, making him look dreamlike. Jisung could barely tell, thanks to Minho's broken phone screen, but it looked like Minho was breathing in heartbeats, lips slightly parted with the smallest smile on them, almost like he wasn't aware of the gesture. 

Minho looked so peaceful in that moment, so serene and happy. 

_But Minho is always happy,_ Jisung thought. All the times Jisung had seen Minho (which, honestly, had just been two, three if he counted the apology coffee date they were having currently), he'd had a bright smile on his face. But none of them felt like that. There wasn't a hint of smugness, or even playfulness. Seeing him like that felt a little different. It made Jisung wonder how many sides of Minho there were, how many sides of Minho he hadn't seen. 

That feeling inside the depths of his stomach stirred again, burning as hot as coal. Curiosity, Jisung reminded himself.

"The one that's jumping all around, that's Doongie, right?"

"Yes, that's him."

"He's so pretty. I like him. What caught my eye, though, was that he is very skittish. I think you resemble him the most."

"Do you think I'm skittish and pretty?" Minho asked, wide grin already formed on his face. 

"I think you resemble a cat."

"You didn't answer my question."

Jisung groaned, but the blush perking up all the way from his chest to his neck betrayed him. He felt his face burn, and he almost cringed at the thought that the colour of his cheeks could potentially be as crimson red as the sofas they were sitting on. " _Sure_. You could say that." Jisung was handing Minho his phone, when his finger accidentally swiped to the next picture and he saw a photo of a small yellow-ish reptile, laying on the floor, facing the sun next to a big window, and the small grey tabby cat on top of him. It was like the cat was hugging him, almost. "Is that Dori?"

"Yes! And that's Galbi!"

"You named your lizard _rib_?"

Minho snatched his phone from Jisung's hands and held it protectively against his chest, "Galbi is obviously not a lizard. She's clearly a bearded dragon." he took a big bite from his sandwich and proceeded to say, "And yes, I named her Galbi. It's a long story."

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere?"

Minho rolled his eyes at Jisung. "I got her two months after I got Dori. It was right when I started working at my job at the mall. I think it was love at first sight, to be honest, but that's just me. I'm sure if you ask her she'll say the opposite." he says, "I wasn't that sure about staying at the mall job when I first got it but after I met Galbi and eventually adopted her I decided to stay so I could potentially give other reptiles the same chance of finding a home. The job is kind of difficult sometimes, because I'm on dog grooming duty on Tuesdays and the boys don't like the smell of that but it pays the bills so, _hey_. Anyways, she always rejects my cuddles but never the kitties'. It hurts my feelings a little." Minho said all of this casually, which kind of startled Jisung. He was so in awe by the way how Minho was just a total open book. He said everything without much concern tracing his words. To Jisung, Minho still was basically a complete stranger. If they had spent less than 24 hours together in total, they were strangers. It was a weird rule Jeongin had that he eventually stole and incorporated in his life. And based on his poor calculations, up to right now, he'd spent up to six hours with the orange haired man.

"I think I like Galbi more than Dori now," Jisung says.

"Why is that?"

"She seems to be the one who's the least fond of you."

Minho snorts, "For your information," he pauses for a second to think and changes the structure of his sentence completely, "She likes me a lot. But I think she might like the boys more." 

"Does she always interact with them?"

"She's not out of her housing much, but when she is, she's always playing with the boys. Especially Dori, since they arrived at the same time, kind of, Dori has gotten attached to her and cared for her like a baby. He is always looking at her housing and jumping on top of the lid, even though I get mad at him when he does it."

"I never thought reptiles and cats could be friends… I mean, I didn't think they couldn't, but I didn't think they could, either. I just didn't think about it at all, I guess," Jisung realizes. 

"Not much of an animal person, I assume?"

"No, but I assume you are, huh?" Jisung quickly shifts the topic from him back to Minho.

If Minho notices, he's too polite to say anything, because he just resumes with the conversation with a cheery tone, "Yep. Got my Bachelor's for Veterinary Medicine this year. I start vet school next year. What about you?" 

Minho did not say this with a condescending tone, but suddenly Jisung felt an ugly feeling pull in his gut, a pang of jealousy. He had already graduated college, and was about to start his doctorate. How the hell did he even manage to pull that? Jisung felt the pang again. He felt inferior. 

It was an odd thing to even think about, but Jisung hated to admit that he rarely felt inferior to people despite being massively insecure about everything he did. It was something he really hated about him, the way his brain would make it so he would doubt everything he did, whilst he felt a wave of superiority over everyone else. It made him hate himself, he felt disgusting for it. 

He tried talking about it with Jeongin and Felix, and it didn't go too well. Felix simply agreed and said he shared the same feelings and that it was normal. Jeongin called them both massive assholes. He brought it up once with Hyunjin, and it went entirely different.

"Well, of course Felix said that. Of course Jeongin reacted the way he did. Don't be thick headed."

"What do you mean?"

"You grew up rich, right? And the Lee's, generations of wealth, no? Meanwhile Jeongin is practically a nobody with new money. There you have it." Jisung flinched at the way Hyunjin talked, so rough and straight-to-the-point, but he was always like that. "You rich people feel above the line from the moment you're born. I've experienced it first hand. Now, I'm not saying you're raised badly, or that it makes you bad people, it's just the way it is. The sun sets, the flowers bloom, humans eventually have to take a shit, you feel superior because you feel that you're entitled to, you know how it goes."

Minho was twenty two. Jisung had just turned twenty a couple of months ago, and was ending his first year of college. He'd graduated school at seventeen, but spent the next year and a half doing absolutely nothing. 

Jisung had wondered what would be of him ever since he was fourteen. He'd never had a passion, like many of his friends did. He liked things, he even cared about some, but he didn't really love anything. He had thought about it, but never too much for it to become a constant worry. 

He knew he did not want to be like his mum. His mum was a graduated economist. She worked as a corporate lawyer in one of the biggest firms of the country. A lot of diplomas, certificates and awards, yes, but none of them made her happy. Jisung had never seen his mother be content when it came to her career, when she talked about her work, when she got up in the morning or when she came home from her office. It was quite depressing. 

He wanted to be like his dad. His dad was a businessman. For his own ice cream shop, which he built from the ground up. His dad could talk about days on end about the origin story of his ice cream shop, how he started with a little ice cream cart in the streets of Hongdae, how he ended up becoming the largest artisanal ice cream franchise in Korea and now Canada, and he could talk about the endless flavours he crafted himself, like _Bingsu_ , made with red bean paste and condensed milk, or _Purple Haze_ , an acai berry and tangerine blend. Jisung wanted that. He was willing to wait. He wanted to feel that amount of love and dedication for something, whatever it was.

The problem occurred when two things collided: Jisung being an over-thinker, and Jisung being a sentimentalist at heart. Oh, and time. Time did not stop just for Jisung to make up his mind. He did not think about that. 

School ended, and two months passed. His parents did not say a thing. Then six months, then eleven, then a year. His parents never pushed, because they never would. If it were up for them, Jisung would have stayed in their old house up until he was in his mid forties. They weren't overprotective or overbearing (coddling and cosseting to the point that they made him a useless adult, yes, but that was not the point) but they loved him too much, if that was even a thing.

The one who pushed him to do something about his life, for once, was himself. The last four months before he got his shit together were catastrophical. He used to wake up about two in the afternoon, and stayed in bed until six watching something on his laptop. He then ordered something on the delivery app, and ate it, laying on his bed. He piled the takeout boxes on top of the other ones, from the previous days (or weeks) before, and proceeded to be on his laptop until he fell asleep. Then he would wake up and start the same routine again. He would bathe occasionally, once a week, probably. But he convinced himself it was okay, because he was waiting for a signal, for something to tell him what to do.

That's when Jisung realized he had wasted so much time doing nothing. Not just since he had gotten out of school, but his entire life. He had absolutely everything given to him in a silver platter. Jisung had grown up so incredibly privileged, always had someone to tell him what to do next.

He had to give himself some credit; if something was not handed to him, he would rightfully earn it. Even though his friends called it cocky, he knew he often was the smartest in the room, and also the prettiest. He was never a teacher's pet, so he knew all his grades and awards were rightfully earned. All the confessions, sticky notes with numbers and flirty DM's he got were not because of his money, because as much as he hated how it sounded, his social circle was as wealthy as him, if not more. He was not used to not having something he wanted. 

But in the end all of that meant nothing, because they hadn't driven him to feel anything in the long run. He had been chasing temporary highs. He could not remember what the tests he got the best scores in were about, what the diplomas hung in the stairwell meant, and he could definitely not remember the last pretty girl who he promised he'd call back before leaving to Korea. 

So, yeah. Jisung was a little jealous of Minho. A little jealous of how perfect he was. It was nauseating, almost. _How come he doesn't get to have a slump? Why does Minho get to be perfect, in every sense of the word?_

"Hey?"

"Mmm," Jisung was still lost in his thoughts, thinking about how unfair the Gods above were, for giving Minho a perfectly curved cupid's bow and the most beautifully angled cheek bones. Probably magnificent grades too, and a really decent paycheck, looking by the amount of animals he was able to take care of. Jisungs insides were hot fire. _Whoever you are, up above, you all are so inconsiderate. I hope the day comes where no one prays to you._ He took a long sip of his sugary drink, pouting slightly. _And I hate you._

"You're staring at me like you want to kill me."

"I might."

"Did I say something wrong?" Minho slightly furrowed his eyebrows, making his cat eyes shift into big doe ones, pulling the right strings of Jisung's heart. _Great._

"No," Jisung said, "No, I just got too carried away thinking of something."

"That's why you want to kill me?"

"I always want to kill you." Jisung said, in an attempt to be playful, "Keep telling me about Galbi. You didn't tell me what she does with the cats when she's out of her house!"

"Oh! I didn't think you were really listening," Minho slightly blushes and puts a hand behind his neck, cupping it, a habit Jisung has noticed he does out of nervousness. "Well, this may surprise you, but bearded dragons are very friendly pets. They're super cuddly. So, when she's out of her housing, she sits on the floor or on my thighs, and Dori likes to lay on top of her, she likes to hug her. She likes to sleep on top of Soonie, though, because he's the fa— The one that's the cuddliest. The softest, too, in my opinion."

"Do they need to cuddle her especially in the summer?"

Minho cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner, "Huh?"

"You know, because she's cold-blooded?"

Minho looked at him, serious and in silence, for a few seconds, as in confirmation, asking if he were serious or not. When Jisung only pouted and said nothing, he bursted in laughter. He was laughing so hard he had to grab his belly and his body involuntarily fell forwards. 

"I can't believe you're being serious right now."

"What..." Jisung gritted his teeth.

"Do you know what a cold-blooded animal is?"

"Yes."

"Okay, enlighten me."

"Okay," Jisung sighed, "It's when, you know, when an animal has cold blood." 

"And that means?" Minho was biting his bottom lip, suppressing a laugh by doing so. 

"That their blood is cold, Minho. They're always cold. Their body is always cold." 

Minho stifled a laugh loudly, spitting a little. Jisung sank on his chair, visibly annoyed. "Minho, stop. Shut up. Ya, shut up, shut up. Why are you laughing?"

"That's not what it means, you dumb baby. Stop pouting like that." 

"Hey, don't call me that! And I'm not pouting!"

"What, dumb or baby?" Minho kept giggling while he spoke.

Jisung's heartbeats spiked at that. "I don't know! Just shut up! Tell me why I'm wrong!" Jisung was speaking loudly now, more comfortably. Loud how he'd been the two times he'd met Minho before.

"Cold-blooded animals are called that because they can't regulate their own body temperature, Jisung, not because they are always cold. Their body temperature always changes, it fluctuates, as they move to different places with different climates and as seasons change." Minho's giggles had disappeared completely, his adult voice on full display, one Jisung had never heard before. It pissed him more this way. He felt like he was being talked to like he was a child. Even if it was even more attractive. It didn't drop lower, Minho's voice was naturally high-pitched, but it was smoother and it had a slight rasp to it that made Jisung want to squirm and melt right into the little sofa. He ignored that, and focused on the fact that Minho was talking to him like he would do to the children at his job, while he wore his stupid safari uniform. The little kids would probably ask him dumb questions like 'do dogs lay eggs' or something, and he would smile kindly and use this tone on them. 

"Fuck off, don't talk to me like I'm a little child. I know I'm right, I'll have you know I passed every class with an A or higher, never less. Every class, Minho. I'm pretty sure they taught this in school."

"Shit school system they must have in Canada, then."

Jisung gasped in horror. He had never been one to be very patriotic, but right now, he suddenly felt very proud of everything that could be related to his homeland. "That is simply not true."

"Jisung, I went to university to be a vet." Minho said, arms spread over the back of the armchair. 

"Well, I... " _Well, I'm Jisung, so I'm right._ "Well..." _There is not something as trivial as this that you know that I don't, therefore, I'm right._ "I'm right. Minho, I'm just right, and I know I am."

"Explain your logic behind your argument then. Give me your claim, your supporting points and your evidence and I'm sold."

"What, you're suddenly a lawyer?"

"Do I have to be a lawyer to ask you to make your shitty allegation to make some sense?" Minho just sipped slowly and put his cup down, "Debate team, by the way." 

Jisung forgot all about the reptiles for a second, and he just saw pure red. He hoped the gods or entities above were listening to him. _You did make him perfect, and honestly, fuck you for that._ "I'm not gonna do all that. I'm going to do what I want." Jisung said, and Minho laughed. "Cold-blooded animals are always cold because the name says so. And because there is no way I failed a question in a test! That is proof enough for me!" Jisung said agitatedly. Heads were starting to turn now, people becoming more invested in the little table in the corner. It was almost like they were some sort of insane people that occasionally met at cafés just to discuss questions of this sort, "Is milk and cereal a type of soup?; Is a hot dog a sandwich?" and it always ended up in a heated argument. At this point, Jisung knew he was in the wrong, but he was way too stubborn to admit defeat. And it would sting ten times more like this, to admit defeat to Minho. _Minho who'd never had a slump. Perfect Minho._

"But then your body heat would turn the lizard warm again and the vicious cycle would continue!" Minho suddenly snapped.

"No, because they're fucking cold blooded! They never get warm!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" Minho yelled.

"I'm not yelling at you!" Jisung yelled back. " You're yelling at me!"

"Shut the fu—"

"Hi, misters," a young woman had approached the table without them even noticing. "I'm going to ask you to leave. You're causing a scene, and this is a family environment. Please, grab your things. Do not worry about the tab, I'll lead you to the door."

* * *

"You're fucking unbelievable."

"Says the guy who got us kicked out of a _family environment._ "

Jisung was walking next to Minho, eyes glued to the ground. He did not see him talk, but he could feel the smile pasted on his lips by the way he had said the last two words. "Me? You were the maniac shouting."

"You were the maniac who shouted first, so you got us kicked out."

Jisung sighed deeply, but it came out as a laugh. Minho laughed at that. And then Jisung bursted into a fit of laughter, and Minho mirrored him. Five minutes of nonstop laughter followed.

"What are we even laughing about?" Minho said, tears bordering his eyes.

"I'm laughing about you, at you, with you" Jisung said weakly, holding his laughter again, "I'm laughing about… About whatever this is. About how wherever you go you only cause chaos."

"No, no, I think you got it wrong." Minho threw his head back, looking at the night sky, "It's us, Jisung. It's us."

 _Us._ Jisung let the word settle deep in his lungs, only for a breath of fresh air to take it right away. "You believe in destiny, or fate, or whatever, right?"

"Of course."

Jisung swallowed what he meant and went the sane way. The safe way. The only way. "Well, since you do, don't you think it's its way of telling us to not try to be friends, or even acquaintances? Whenever we're together we end up arguing."

Minho kept looking at the sky, "The beauty of believing in all of it is the uncertainty of it, the faith you put in it. I don't know what destiny holds or what fate wants, Jisung. I'm just a man."

"Why do you keep saying that? That you're just a man?"

"What else would I be?"

Jisung bit his lip hardly. He swallowed everything he wanted to say and nodded with his head in silence, "I don't know, you're right. I just don't like the way it sounds."

"Well, you're never going to hear it again after tonight, right?"

"Right."

"Where are we going, by the way?"

"I thought you were leading the way." 

Minho finally looked to the empty streets, and smiled softly. "It's always like this with you."

"Always? We've met two, three times, barely."

"Well, the two times it's happened it's been the same. We meet, it's really great, some weird shit goes down but I still want it to last, then we fight, and we end up in an alleway in the middle of fucking nowhere. You say we're chaos but I say we're getting better at whatever we're doing. Look at us, not ending with a fight."

Jisung contemplated silence, but said something to fill the cold air between them instead "You're weird, Minho. "

"I've been told." Minho put his hands inside his pockets and walked a little slower, "I just saw a sign, there's a subway station a block away. Do you know how to get home? Where do you live?"

"Kondae area."

"You just have to take Line 7. It'll take you 40 minutes, tops."

"Yeah," Jisung lied. He'd never been around this area before. "I know."

Minho hummed in response and they walked in silence until they reached the station.

"So," Minho said as they stopped by a glowing sign. Their final stop, their last time together. Jisung felt his heart thump loudly in his chest. His fingers were numb at the touch of Minho hugging him goodbye, something that he'd never done before. He'd never hugged him. He'd never touched him. 

He wrapped one arm around his shoulder and one arm around his waist, it rested nicely against Jisung's thick zip-up hoodie.

 _He smells of home_ , Jisung thinks. He smelled of spring and everything nice that came with it. He smelled like fresh pines and oranges, making Jisung remember the countless springs spent under tall trees' shadows, collecting pine cones and roaming through evergreen forests filled with blossoming flowers. The taste of sweet and fresh orangeade, glass filled with ice to the brim. Spring back in Canada started at 0°C, which was the baseline for Korea's December weather, where they currently stood, hugging each other goodbye, as tight as they could. _This feels just like spring._

All Jisung wanted was to swiftly drift to sleep in Minho's arms and escape, just escape while Minho's scent filled his lungs while he dreamt of more springs to come. 

_I'm just homesick,_ Jisung lies to himself, as he pulls Minho tighter, _I just miss it back home._

Minho was the first one to pull away, grazing his cold nose against Jisung's neck when he did. He smiles at Jisung and leaves, some sort of wordless goodbye, like Jisung did at the mall. And just like that, Minho is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOO IM SO SORRY ITS THE 23RD AND ITS 1:22 AM AND I JUST FINISHED FINALLY EDITINF EVERY SINGLE DETAIL SO THIS COULD BE PERFECT DONT B MAD I COMPLETELY CHANGED THE PLOT LOL anyway heres this!!! i like it WAY more and i hope u do too!!! 
> 
> as always please leave kudos and comments, they encourage me a lot and they make my day!!


	3. weekdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO RLLY IMPORTANT PSA!!!!!!!
> 
> i completely changed chapter 2 bc i hated how the direction of the fic was going and i generally hated what i wrote so if u still want to give this a chance (i promise u its so much better), please go read the second chapter!! 
> 
> if ur still here.... enemies minsung HERE WE GOOOO

Jisung started his week perfectly. On Monday, he actually managed to do his whole skincare routine before Hyunjin barged into his apartment demanding food, knowing damn well he didn't have any, and that they would end eating up a McDonald's breakfast menu that Hyunjin would end up paying for. Perfect Monday morning. He spent the rest of the day at his university, even though he technically was on holiday break. The university was still open for overseas students, and despite him residing outside campus, his teachers had been kind enough to land him two exam dates on Christmas Eve. So, Jisung thought that if he had to go to school on Christmas week, he might as well just use every school space he had to his advantage.

He spent the entire evening alone in the library, laying on the floor with some stuffed animals and sipping on some sugary drink he'd gotten from a vending machine. At night he played online games with his friends from school and fell fast asleep after that. 

On Tuesday, the first thought that arose in his brain was _"_ _Even if it's not Turtle Tuesday, it's Reptile Friday!"._ Jisung shook it off. It was just a phrase. Anyone working as a stupid safari boy could've said it. The fact that it was Minho the one who said it was inconsequential. It could've been anyone. 

Jisung pulled down the toaster lever, and stared into the wall. "Did you know it's Turtle Tuesday?"

"What?" 

"Did you know that? Today is Turtle Tuesday, and in a few days, it will be Reptile Friday." he said, voice completely monotone. His eyes were lost in the white wall. 

"Should I declare you legally insane?" Hyunjin grimaced at Jisung, "Can I keep your things?"

The phrase lingered on his brain all day. So much so that when he was ordering coffee he was so lost in thought, he heard someone call for "Turhtohl". Jisung flushed, grabbing his drink and leaving quickly. 

He felt so useless the rest of the day. He went to sleep early that day, annoyed with the fact that he could remember Minho's cheery voice as clear as water, saying, _"Even if it's not Turtle Tuesday, it's Reptile Friday! Hey, and it's Safari Week! Would you like to get a picture wi_ _— Hey! It's you!"_ Jisung shifted between his sheets. _What did that mean, anyway. Hey, it's you? Yes, it's me, who the fuck else would it be? Some stranger with the same face as me? Why was he so surprised it was me? Was he wishing to not see me ever again?_ Jisung shifted uncomfortably one more time, struggling to find the right position to fall asleep. Everything felt wrong. 

"Who're you talking to?" someone barged in his room, feet quietly shuffling against the wooden floor.

"Woah, what the fuck? What are you doing in my house?"

Hyunjin looked at Jisung like he had grown a pig's head out of his asshole. "I've been staying with you since Sunday. My apartment flooded. Are you okay?"

Jisung planted his face into a pillow and sighed heavily. His words came out muffled, but clear enough, "Yes. Just go, shut the door. Just go."

Jisung eventually drifted to sleep while listening to his favourite podcast. If a boy with sunset colored locks tormented his dreams, that was between Jisung and his deep sleep. 

Wednesday was a little different. To be fair, Wednesdays always were. They were the days where he had breakfast with Felix. Ever since he'd moved, they had coordinated a specific time to meet once a week to just chat for hours, which had been tricky considering their time zones and busy schedules. Their original time was 8:00 AM for Jisung, because his classes didn't start until midday, and 6:00 PM for Felix, because by that time he would have already arrived home. They've moved it to three hours later than that this week, due to the holidays. Felix called it a sleepover, Jisung called it brunch. 

"Felix, he was like, WHAT ARE YEW DOING IN MEW HOUSEEE, EYY!" Hyunjin said in english, totally failing at the attempt of doing a Canadian accent and sounding like a Scottish middle aged lady instead. Felix laughed anyway, batting his eyelashes prettily through the led screen. 

Hyunjin and Felix had become sort of friends, somehow. Jisung did not know if it was because of incessant babbling about him and missing him he did to Hyunjin, or the fact that they were on the phone a lot and Hyunjin was forced to hear over the wall, or that Hyunjin practically paid his own rent in vain because he lived at Jisung's and ended up joining most of their video calls, or maybe all of the reasons together. It just happened naturally, over the course of the months. Hyunjin insisted on always talking in English when he was on the phone with Felix, because he said it improved his language skills. He was doing an English degree, after all. Jisung found it funny because when it was just the two of them, Hyunjin refused to speak a word of anything that wasn't just Korean. 

Felix laughed loudly, "I can hear it! I seriously can!"

"Guys, shut up." Jisung moped.

Hyunjin and Felix burst in laughter together, mocking Jisung again. "You're doomed, dude!"

Jisung stood up from the bed he was sharing with Hyunjin, and headed towards the door. "You're both dicks."

"C'mon, don't be like that. We were just joking around, baby." Jisung closed his eyes softly and exhaled. He hated it, the power his best friend had over him. How he could call him 'baby' when he knew he was pushing too far, when he knew Jisung was starting to become annoyed. It was nothing like the first time he called him baby, back when they were both sixteen. He had meant it differently then. Despite being the same word, the meanings were worlds apart now, another meaning laced behind it: trust. 

"Okay," Jisung lays chest down on his bed again, "I just don't like it, you know. Any of this."

"Why don't you like it?" Felix asked, voice soft as always.

"I don't like that I keep thinking about Minho, because… Because of so many reasons."

"Which are?" Hyunjin chimed in.

"I was getting there." Jisung said, rolling his eyes at Hyunjin, "First of all, he's basically a stranger. Lix, you know. Hyunjin, I've told you about the 24 hour rule." He heard Hyunjin mutter something but kept talking, "We also don't get along at all. We always fight. He made me commit a crime, too, did I mention that? He also broke my Christmas tree. He got me kicked out of a café, Lix! _A_ _family environment_." Jisung said the last words exactly like Minho had said them under the dark night sky the last time they saw each other. "Everyone would freak out back home if they heard that the Han's son got into some shit like this. It's just weird."

"But you're not that anymore." Felix said, voice clear.

"Huh?"

"You're Jisung. Not the Han's son. You don't even live in the same continent anymore." this time it was Hyunjin. 

_But there's no Jisung_ , he thinks, but doesn't say. _I am the mere shadow of the perfect pressure put upon me, and even that's gone now. I don't know who I am._

"Why do you think like that, Ji? Your parents have never put any expectations on anything you've done. You're the freest rich child I know. You got to paint your white designer shoes with sharpies on the first day of elementary school. I've seen the pictures."

"I don't know, I guess it's just that everyone had such high expectations of me since I was a child, I think? You're right about my parents never putting expectations, per se, but there was pressure. I remember them parading me around when I was younger like I was a trophy, just because I was some sort of poster child or something. Good at sports, never got into trouble, excelled academically. That's what I became, in the end. That's the only thing I craved to be. The only thing I ever was." 

"You know that's just not true," Felix sounded mildly annoyed now, but Jisung knew he wasn't at all, "You're the most interesting person I know. You have so much knowledge of so many interesting things no one knows buttfuck about. Like everything about peonies and how gamma-ray bursts happen, to how sea urchins mate, even how to solve a rubix cube under one minute. You also know the entirety of the Naruto storyline by heart."

"You do too," Jisung reminded him, memories flashing by of them watching countless episodes thrown on their beds with snacks all over.

"That's not the point. Do you get what I'm saying? I wasn't even a quarter done, I just mentioned some things you like. You're way more than whatever you thought you were back in Canada. Even if you were that, or thought you were nothing, you left that back there. You're someone else now, Ji. You're so much more." He sighed, trying to find the right words, "It's not that you're becoming the person you've always wanted to be, it's that you're finding the you that was meant to eventually happen. You're becoming Jisung. You're finding _you_. And while that happens, you're still the one we love, but most importantly, the one you should love."

"Felix?" Hyunjin asked.

"Yeah?"

"I think I might be in love with you."

Felix flushed pink instantly, but laughed as he shoved his face away from the camera. "You're funny, Hyunjin." 

Hyunjin turned to Jisung and made a weird expression, as in saying, 'Can you believe him?'. Jisung just laughed softly. "Thank you, Lix. I love you." he said with pure honesty. He took Felix's words to heart and treasured them, kept them safe in his heart forever. He waited for his friend to return to the camera, but when he didn't, he just kept talking, "I still feel weird about Minho. I swore I wanted to punch him at the café, I really did. I wanted him to shut up so badly. But he's just… When I hugged him, I… All the..." Jisung wondered if he should say more. He didn't know. 

"Don't stress, I got you. I know what you mean." Felix cut his friends' train of thought, "I know that look."

Hyunjin looked at the laptop screen, then back at the boy laying next to him, but didn't say anything, despite the confused expression settled on his face. What stupidly characteristic of Felix, Jisung sighed, to know exactly what was on his own brain before he himself did. To figure him out by a few long nights of texting about it and hours of video calling. 

"Find him. Go to the pet store."

Jisung snorts. "Now you're the funny one."

"I'm serious. What do you have to lose?"

"My dignity, maybe? We said we wouldn't meet again."

They went on about this for ten, fifteen minutes maybe. Hyunjin sided with Jisung first, but then moved over to Felix's side, to then decide he was imparcial and that he just wanted destiny to do it's thing. _Why did suddenly everyone believe in fate and destiny? What was up with that?_

"I know you don't like to hear this, but you like him. If it's as a friend or more, that's up to you to decide. I know the answer to that already, and I know you do too, but you're just dense. Stop robbing yourself of everything you want." Felix said in French, voice deeper than usual. It took Jisung a while to understand, because he was nowhere near fluent as Felix, and Felix's word choice hadn't been the most basic. 

Jisung heard Felix speak French often, but it was never directed at him. They've always talked in English. Felix knew how uncomfortable Jisung was with being unable to properly pronounce and conjugate the language. Despite that, he'd never let go the time Jisung and him were having casual conversation with the dreamy young baker down the street from their school. He mentioned being able to take home all the pastries that were left from the day, and Jisung wanted to express how jealous he was. He did it stringing a couple of words together, a simple "j'ai envie de toi,". It was when Felix covered his mouth, slapping his palm over it, and the baker went beet red that he noticed he'd probably made a mistake. Felix carried the conversation for a few more minutes, the baker still red from the neck to the ears. When Felix told Jisung to say goodbye, he thought it was proper to apologize, for whatever the misunderstanding had been. He said a quick _'I'm sorry, thank you so much'_ , and waved goodbye. The baker somehow went even redder, and disappeared into the store. On their way home, Felix told Jisung what he had done. Not only had he said 'j'ai envie de toi', instead of 'je vous envie', meaning he had told the baker he wanted to sleep with him instead of saying he was jealous of him, he had also told mispronounced ' _merci beaucoup! '_ as ' _merci beau cul!_ '. _'Sorry, thanks, nice ass!',_ instead of an apologetic and simple _'thank you'._ He didn't have the nerve to come back to the bakery they frequented after school after that. 

"Okay. Okay, I'll do it."

"I'll hang up right now in case you start thinking too much."

"Hé , Jisung?"

"Ay?"

"Cela peut paraître étrange, mais j'ai un bon feeling sur lui. Mais bon, j’dis ça, j’dis rien." He shot Jisung a look before switching to English quickly, warm smile back on his face, "Bye, loves! Good luck, Ji. Bye, Hyunjin." Felix smiled even brightly at them and ended the call. Hyunjin stood still, staring at the screen, dumbstruck.

"He speaks french," he said dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape.

"Yeah, he's French. Well, French-Canadian. And Asian. Complicated family tree, you see."

"I think I actually might be in love with him."

"Good luck with that," Jisung patted his floormate's shoulder and stood up, "Okay, stand up and wipe that look of your face, it's starting to creep me out."

Jisung didn't make it too far. He did get dressed, and he did leave his house. He even got in the subway. It was full, it was midday, and it was Christmas time, after all. He found an empty seat and waited. He saw the name of his stop flash on a led screen, and waited. He let his stop go by. He sat a few minutes more. He got off on the station he had boarded just a couple of days ago. He walked a little, maybe a block or two. He was back in the alleyway where he and Minho had realized they were lost. 

He looked around, trying to find something. An answer, maybe. He didn't know why he had gone there. He tried to move, but his feet felt cemented to the ground. Jisung stood there for minutes, maybe days, or months. He became part of the street. A lampost, maybe. He just took everything in, mind blank. 

An image flashed in his mind, and he mimiqued it. He threw his head back, looking up at the sky, only at the sky. It was bright and gray, almost blinding. He closed his eyes and let the cold rest over his face. He was unable to move until he heard a car honk. He moved to the side quickly and realized he had been standing in the middle of the road. Jisung spent the rest of the day wandering through a part of Seoul he'd never seen before.

Thursday was fucking weird. When Jisung woke up, he was hungover. His head spinned, and his mouth was dry. He threw up as soon as he stood up.

"What the fuck where you doing in Seocho, anyway? In Naegok, of all places?" Hyunjin passed Jisung a steamy bowl.

"What's this? I told you I wanted poutine." Jisung grimaced at the bowl of soup, but still took a spoonful of broth. It didn't taste like much, even though it looked terrifying. Weird brown things floated at the surface of the bowl. 

"Where the hell am I supposed to get that? Just shut up. This will make you feel better."

"What's this?"

"I'm not poisoning you."

"It looks weird."

"Are you insulting my food? That I cooked for you?" Jisung just pointed at a brown paper bag with a stamped logo that read "CHEONG JIN OK: DELIVERY" laying on the counter, and Hyunjin huffed, "Fine. Whatever. Just drink it, it's really good for hangovers. I promise."

He scooped a dark brownish cube, and tasted it. It was mushy. Slightly metallic and earthy tasting. Not to Jisung's liking. "This has… Why is it soft like jelly? What is this, Hyunjin?"

"Do you promise that if I tell you you'll still eat it?"

"Yes."

"It's congealed ox blood soup." he said carefully, "But look, it has veggies in it, too." 

Jisung felt all the food come back to his throat. "I'm going to be sick."

"Hey, hey, come on. It's not that bad." Hyunjin pulled a chair and sat next to Jisung, "Don't be so—" he bit his tongue, "It's fine, it's just something we do here. I'll get you something greasy soon."

"Don't be so what?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"Seriously, nothing. It was rude and I don't want to say it."

"You were going to tell me to stop acting like a privileged asshole and just eat what I get, right?"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes so far back Jisung swore he saw his brain. "No, Jisung. I was going to tell you to stop being such a _westerner_. Stop being so american. I'm not going to get into it."

It stung a little, but Jisung knew that Hyunjin was right. Even if he didn't have an accent when he spoke in Korean (which he totally did), he would still stick out like a sore thumb. He had felt this kind of embarrassment before, when his cousins visited him, and they just called him the 'foreign cousin' instead of Jisung. When he struggled with titles and honorifics, when he grimaced at the taste of some foods his father loved. Or at his school, when some of his classmates looked at him weird when he called himself Korean. It wasn't knews to Jisung that he wasn't enough, his brain wouldn't let him forget. Not good enough, not talented enough, not even Korean enough. 

Jisung also knew Hyunjin hadn't meant to hurt him, so he just smiled and took it as a challenge. "It's fine, you're kind of right, anyway. I'm going to finish this by myself." he took the bowl of soup and went to his room, leaving Hyunjin sitting alone. He locked his door and sat on his desk. He looked at his phone, the first message catching his attention

**felixster** : hyunjin just texted me. poutine BEFORE going to bed, not after. idiot.

  
  


It turned out that the soup was called Seonjiguk, and it worked wonders. It was four thirty in the afternoon, and Jisung felt incredible. He'd felt great just forty minutes after finishing the whole bowl, so he took the opportunity to use all of his energy to study in the university's library again. He was finishing up with his last revision, eyeing his notes back and forth and adding some sticky notes to his textbook. When he was satisfied with the studying he'd done, he put everything in his backpack and left quietly.

Jisung hated that the campus library was so far from the main entrance. He'd been walking for ten minutes already, and he wasn't even halfway there. He tried picking up his pace, but decided against it. It would be useless, anyway. He strolled for a few more minutes until he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Straightening up, he was struck with a fresh waft of pine cones and a citrusy-sweet scent that threw him right back to that night at the subway station under the starless sky. 

"Hey, Jisung. Hi." Minho said, almost out of breath. He was kind of heaving, but his lips still had a shade of a smile on them.

"Minho? What are you doing here?" Jisung asked, eyes wide and pout forming on his small lips. Minho had taken him by surprise. 

"I came to look for you, actually." 

"How did you find me?" Jisung asked. Minho's smile completely disappeared, and Jisung realized he had been questioning him and hadn't even said 'hello' back. "Hi, by the way. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"I'm glad." he said, honestly. "I am actually wondering though, how did you find me? And what do you mean _look for me_?"

"Well, I, uhm," Minho straightened his back and placed one of his palms on the back of his neck, rubbing his fingers gently against his nape. "Don't think I'm a weirdo, but I kind of googled you? There weren't a bunch of Han Jisungs in Seoul, but there were a few. I went to facebook but you weren't there. I went to twitter but I just don't know how that site works," he giggled nervously and Jisung almost laughed. "Then I remembered you said you lived around Kondae or something, I wasn't really sure, but I took my chances. It's a university area, so I just looked you up in the university from there, and you were on the site. I came here but I didn't realize it was holiday break already." Minho was speaking really fast. His cheeks slowly turning pink, his nose as well. Seeing him like this took Jisung back to the first evening they met, back at the alleyway behind the home improvement store. Minho's body had reacted the same way when Jisung accused him of scamming him, and he had had to admit that his attempts of flirting with Jisung had been misinterpreted. "I was leaving but I thought I saw you, I couldn't take my chances, I had already come all the way here. So, here I am."

"Here you are," Jisung echoed. He just looked at Minho, taking in the sight of him. He wore a black hoodie with matching black sweatpants that fitted him perfectly, hugged his legs in all the right places. He adorned his outfit with a bright blue headband around his messy hair. He looked so casual, so relaxed, so effortlessly beautiful. He did not even have to try. 

"I'll go, if you want. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I know we had a deal, I'm sorry."

"No, stay. I'm curious now." he crossed his arms against his chest, "Why were you looking for me?"

"I need you to help me with the store's paperwork." _Oh. Okay,_ definitely not what Jisung had been expecting to hear. "My boss asked the team which one of us was good at drafting documents and I just said I was, so he assigned me the work. He forgot to mention it was all supposed to be in English." 

"He forgot," Jisung repeated.

"Yes." Minho's cheeks had only deepend in pink. Jisung suppressed the urge to smile. 

"You're a shit liar." Minho opened his eyes in surprise, and Jisung kept walking. He heard Minho say something but didn't pay much attention to it until he finally caught up to him.

"I'm not lying."

"You're telling me your boss gave you official paperwork and didn't even mention the language it should be done in? When English isn't even an official language here? Sure, Minho." Minho just grumbled alongside Jisung while the both of them kept walking.

"Well, that happened." 

"No, it didn't."

"Yes, it did! Why are you always like this?" Jisung looked to his side, to see if Minho had returned to his normal complexion. He hadn't. His whole face resembled the stripes of an elephant hawk moth. If he blushed more, he would end up the colour of a pink katydid. Jisung loved it. He loved teasing Minho. He'd missed it. 

"Minho, if you wanted to see me again so bad you should've just asked me out last time you saw me."

It sounded like Minho swallowed a choking sound, but he just let out a loud laugh. "I already did ask you out, remember? You shut me down and gave me 10,000 won for trying." 

Jisung felt mortified. He had done that. Not exactly _that_ , with those intentions, but shit. He couldn't blame Minho if it had felt like it. "You're a dick." Jisung spit out.

"Says you." Minho jabbed back.

"Stalker." 

"Maniac." 

"Criminal."

"Asshole."

Neither of them knew when it happened, but they had combusted in laughter. It wasn't loud or boisterous like last time, this time it felt almost like a breeze, it was comfortable and faint, without meaning to be. 

"So, are you going to help me or what?"

"I'll help you. Consider this my Christmas present to you."

"I don't do Christmas, Jisung. But I'll take your yes."

Jisung was curious, but he held back. He didn't want to pry. "Well, you don't do Christmas, but I do, so I'm expecting a present. It's the seventeenth today, so you have eight days to get me something cute." 

Jisung waited for Minho to tease him about him talking about future plans, about him talking about them seeing eachother again, but he didn't. Instead, he just said, "No, it works both ways. ' _I don't do Christmas_ ' means I don't take part in any of it. You'll be presentless this Christmas. New Years is my favourite holiday, though. We'll see about that one."

Now it was Jisung's turn to blush. He realized he'd almost arrived at the front door, and kneeled to the ground. He opened his backpack and reached for a notebook, ripping a paper out and taking a pen out of his pocket. He scribbled something, folded it in four and handed the paper to Minho.

"Hm?" Minho took the paper and opened it slowly, like he feared what'd be written inside of it. "A phone number?"

" _My_ number. So you can text me your address and the details later?"

Minho's evil grin hadn't made an appearance all evening until now. It was back with full force, as menacing as ever. "Now who's the shit liar?" 

Jisung tried to jab at him, to say something, but nothing came out. Just nonsense babbling, kind of sounding like 'b-buh-but I'. The taller resumed, "I never said we were meeting at mine."

"I just assumed. It's just a Canadian thi—"

"Don't play the foreigner card. You know that makes no sense here." Minho looked down at Jisung, who was still kneeling on the ground. He extended a hand, offering it to him "Jisung, if you wanted my number so badly you could've just said so."

Jisung took his hand reluctantly, swallowing his pride. "Whatever. I have to go now." Jisung gave Minho a tight lipped smile as he pointed to the main entrance. 

"Sure." 

"Okay." 

"Alright." 

Jisung hated this. Hated their goodbyes. They were always too awkward, too uncomfortable. He had come to the conclusion that it was because they were always uncertain of what was going to be, but this one just proved that that wasn't the truth. They were going to see each other again, at least he hoped so. He hoped Minho actually called him. He also hated something new about their goodbyes, the new added layer of uncertainty. He could see Minho fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, not knowing what to do with his hands. Jisung had both hands inside his pockets now, not sure what he would do with them if he let them out of there. He didn't even know what he _should_ do. Should he hug Minho goodbye, like they had done last time? Or was that a one time thing? Should he fist-bump him? Maybe a high-five? Just wave goodbye? 

He snapped out of his trance when he felt warm weight against his chest, surrounding him and engulfing him whole. This hug was different from the last. Their last, and first hug, had been a usal hug. Arm swung over one shoulder, other arm over the waist. This time, though, Minho wrapped both of his arms around Jisung's waist and rested his chin on the shorter's shoulder, pulling him tightly against him. Jisung melted instantly, finding his place between Minho's arms in a heartbeat. He wrapped both of his arms around Minho's neck and buried his face between his chin and neck. 

He was completely numb until Minho pulled away. The actual hug couldn't have been more than five seconds, but when he didn't have the orange haired man attached to him anymore, he felt an icy-hot fire all over his body, all over where Minho's skin had touched his. 

Jisung opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly and turned, leaving Minho standing alone in the cold. 

Friday was the day Jisung took a chance. 

Jisung didn't wake up to either a text or call from an unknown number. He didn't let himself feel disappointed. 

He had planned to study at home today, even though he really didn't have to anymore. He knew every topic that was supposed to come on his tests by now, but he had nothing to do. He had no one to hang out with, since Hyunjin had work, and Felix was a hundred miles away. He thought of calling Changbin. He was a friend from university, but that was as far as they went. They had hung out outside of university a couple of times on study dates, which Hyunjin insisted were failed attempts at the older trying to ask him out on real dates. Jisung wasn't so sure. 

Jisung could see it from both sides. Changbin was a flirty guy. He had flirted shamelessly with Jisung the first time they met on their first term, at the only class they ever shared, an elective called "'Losing Earth'?: Activism and diplomacy on the environment and climate since 1968." Jisung had taken it because his Typography and Page Layout professor had let his entire class know before the first day of school that they would be working on a project that would be based around a critical global issue. Changbin had taken it because he wanted to prove his sister that he was right, that his claim was scientifically accurate: the world had gone to shit the year their father had been born, 1968. 

He flirted since that day, and never really stopped. He even flirted through text. It got Jisung's hopes up at first, because Changbin was handsome and kind. He was everything Jisung thought he liked. He was really sweet, in every sense. His laugh gave Jisung a sugar high, his eyes were a deep chocolate colour and his face was soft like mochi. He was really patient and kind hearted, the best listener Jisung had ever met. His hands contrasted all of him; they were rough and calloused from all the weight lifting and boxing he did, not soft and welcoming like his eyes were when he saw Jisung enter a room or his soft yet bright like his smile whenever the younger told him anything. Jisung knew this, because he had let himself get his hopes up. He noticed all of this before he noticed the biggest thing of all: Changbin was like this with everyone. He was just full of love. Despite his built body, big muscles and tough stare, he was just a cuddly guy who wanted to give a lot of love to everyone he could. 

Jisung got over it pretty quickly, and never mentioned his embarrassing crush to Changbin. They stayed friends even until their elective culminated. When the term had ended, Changbin and Jisung had no classes in common. They were in completely different faculties. Jisung studied Graphic Design in the Arts and Design faculty, meanwhile Changbin studied Psychology all the way in the Liberal Arts faculty, but somehow, Jisung kept running into Changbin almost everyday. 

_"Oh, Jisung, I didn't see you there!"_

_"Hey, Sungie, that's so random! What're you doing here?"_

_"Oh, what a coincidence!"_

_"Now that I'm here, want me to walk you to class?"_

Jisung wasn't stupid. He knew Changbin wanted something from him, so he asked. That night he ended up sleeping with him. They became closer after that, he likes to think, but not really _friends_ friends. The study hangouts started after that, Changbin saying that Jisung was his only smart friend, or at least the only one who was smart enough to go over his notes and textbooks with him. That's how him and Hyunjin ended up getting invited to his Secret Santa party, which was set to happen next Tuesday. 

Jisung tossed in his sheets, still bored but not motivated enough to get up. He looked at his phone and saw the time. _11:26 AM._ He decided to completely abandon his studying plans and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep easily. 

Jisung woke up the sound of his phone buzzing. He palmed around his bed, trying to find it between his tangled sheets. He looked at the window, sky gray and light. He knew who was calling him. There could only be one person calling him in the middle of the day.

"What do you want, Hyunjin? Did you forget your lunch at home again? Because I'm not going all the way to your workplace again, you og—"

"Someone's in a mood," a bright voice said.

Jisung almost cursed under his breath. "Hello, Minho."

"Hi. Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah, you like it? I've been told my waking up voice is sexy." Jisung said teasingly. All the sleepiness he felt when he picked up the phone was out the window, gone as soon as he heard the elder's voice. 

"Personally I think you sound like ass."

"What is it with you and lying?" Jisung sat up and stretched, letting a faint groan escape his lips, "What's up?"

"Are you still up for helping me with my work's paperwork?"

The images of their last meeting flashed quickly through his brain, making him shudder. He tried to mask his nervousness and replied coolly, "Sure." It came out too fake. He tried again, "Yes, I'm free all day." Too available. "But I have to wait for Hyunjin to get home, we agreed on watching a movie together." Perfect. 

"So you're not free all day."

"Yeah, basically." 

A few seconds of silence passed by. Too many seconds. 

"Who's Hyunjin?" Minho asked. 

"My floor mate."

"Oh, okay."

Jisung could've left it at that, but he felt like he needed to give Minho an explanation when he heard his voice soften a little at his last response. "He's living with me temporarily while his apartment gets fixed. It flooded."

"Oh." Jisung heard genuine surprise from the other end of the call. "That's nice of you." 

"Thanks?" Jisung said, laughing awkwardly without meaning to, "You're being weird."

"It's just weird, you telling me things about you. And don't get defensive like you do."

"Idon'tgetdefen—" Jisung caught himself and scrunched his nose defensively, in silence. "I've told you things. You know my full name, where I'm from, my school, and my roommate."

"You told me one out of those four things. I had to ask once for one of those, twice for another, and I found out the other one by myself."

Jisung didn't say anything to that. Minho was being fair, he deserved something back from him. But Jisung just couldn't. He was not about to unload his emotional turmoil onto Minho, and explain to him why he just couldn't bring himself to talk about himself with anyone. He was not going to mention the tormenting thoughts on his brain that twisted how he saw himself, his perspective on his own life and morals, where he stood in life. He could not talk about who he was, because he didn't know himself. He just knew he'd had a hole in his chest for a while, and his quest to find himself had been harder than he thought it would be. He bit his lower lip, remembering one of the last words Felix said to him before hanging up: _I have a good feeling about this boy._ "Okay, what do you want to know? I will only answer what I'm comfortable with, and you have five questions only."

"Tell me what you're thinking about right now."

"You're wasting your first question on that?"

"Yes, now answer."

"I'm thinking about how I should really get off my bed and grab a shirt. I sweat a lot during my sleep, even during winter. It's kind of gross."

"You're not wearing a shirt?" Minho asked rather quickly, voice fueled with curiosity and laced with something Jisung couldn't put his finger on.

"Mhm, I sleep just with my underwear on. That was your second question, by the way. What's the third?"

Minho wasted no time. "What's your favorite phrase, and who is it by? This is a compound question, not two separate ones. Don't even think about starting an argument with me. Debate team, remember?"

Jisung just giggled softly and answered honestly, "It's ' _We are best friends. I know you. I know us. We're us, before anything else._ ' by Felix." He was sure Minho would ask who Felix was, but he didn't. He just asked the next question, "Do you believe in destiny?" 

  
  


_"You see, Jisung, I don't think we ran into each other out of mere coincidence. I think it's destiny."_

_"Sure, Minho. Call it fate. Whatever makes you sleep at night."_

_"You believe in destiny, or fate, or whatever, right?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Well, since you do, don't you think it's its way of telling us to not try to be friends, or even acquaintances? Whenever we're together we end up arguing. "_

_"The beauty of believing in all of it is the uncertainty of it, the faith you put in it. I don't know what destiny holds or what fate wants, Jisung. I'm just a man."_

"I don't know," Jisung said finally, letting out a breath he'd been holding. "I think I might."

"Good to know," Minho's tone was calm, but Jisung could tell by the strain of his voice that he was smiling. "Last question, right?"

Jisung was almost going to tell him that that was a question itself, but he let it go. "Yeah."

"I'll see you at seven?"

Jisung was surprised by that. He thought the last question would be the most personal one. Minho hadn't even asked him what he'd thought he'd ask, in the first place. Not his major, or his favourite movie, or his biggest fear. But that was very much like him, he realized. Very unique. "You will."

* * *

Finding Minho's apartment had been fairly easy. After he texted him the address, Jisung knew exactly where to go. He lived in Seocho. Banpobon, to be exact. Jisung found out on Wednesday, the day he went back to the subway station, that the night they'd gotten lost they had ended up in saying goodbye in Yangjae-dong Station, in Seocho. So when he got the text, he was just glad he at least knew the area. He'd spent a whole day exploring it, watching the pretty light showers where water jets came out from the sides of the Bandpodaegyo Bridge, the beautiful scenery of the Hangang park, the view of the river. He had walked so much that day, seen so much he'd never seen before. He ended up getting wasted in a bar at night, with new friends he met at a gogi-gui place when he decided hunger was getting the best of him. He called Hyunjin to pick him up and woke up with an awful headache the next morning. 

Minho was waiting for him outside his apartment, leaning against a metal door. The building had the structure of an old industrial one, but it had clearly recently been painted a rusty orange. It was a huge contrast to all the buildings surrounding the area, which were way taller and fancier looking, rectangles covered in sheets of glass or bright white paint.

"You dressed up."

"Did not." Jisung lied. He had clearly dressed up. All the times he had run into Minho, he had caught him in his usual attire, which were sweatpants and a comically oversized t-shirt. Sometimes a hoodie on top. He was breaking free for all the years he had to overdress every day for no reason, just to keep up an appearance and a good image. Felix found it baffling, and called him out on it whenever Jisung sent photos to him. He called it going outside in pajamas, Jisung called it _maybe_ loungewear.

Tonight, though, he looked different. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans he'd only worn twice since he arrived in Korea, and a tucked in white shirt with some logo stamped on it and a cropped black jean jacket. And his favourite pair of platform black combat boots. "You don't look too bad."

Minho smiled, like he had seen through Jisung's obvious attempt at hiding his compliment, "I know. Come in." 

Minho opened the gated door and Jisung let himself in. They didn't say anything while they walked through the lobby. The elevator ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. 

As soon as Minho opened the door to his apartment, he understood why he called his cats family. He had always been fed the idea that dogs were humans' only best friends because they took care of their owners and showered them with affection, unlike cats, that were solitary and cold creatures. He noticed he had been in the wrong by the way they interacted with each other.

It seemed as if the three cats had been waiting behind the door, instantly clawing at Minho's jeans and attaching themselves to his legs.

"Hey, hey. I was gone less than ten minutes."

The biggest cat let go of Minho's leg and stood in front of Jisung, who had yet to set a foot in the apartment. He recognized this cat as Soonie. Soonie looked at him intently and bobbed his head to the side. He walked slowly to him, circling him in place. Jisung felt like he was being tested.

"Soonie, let him in." As if he could understand Minho, the chubby ginger cat stepped aside and freed the doorway for Jisung. "I'm sorry, he's a little protective."

Jisung let out a faint giggle as he finally stepped inside. Minho's apartment was surprisingly big. Jisung had noticed from the outside that it was an industrial looking building, but from the inside it was more obvious that the place used to be some sort of factory. It was an open space with stripped-back architecture, and exposed bricks walls with a turn-of-the-century vibe. It reminded Jisung of the New York apartments he always saw on TV shows.

"That was Soonie, I've told you about him. Here in my arms is Dori, Galbi's best friend." Minho pat Dori's head gently, Dori nuzzling at his touch. "And Doongie is somewhere running around, even though he was here a second ago. Those are my boys." he said proudly.

"Hi guys," Jisung's voice came out smaller than he intended to. His voice always did that when he interacted with animals or babies, it was involuntary. "Where's Galbi?"

"Oh, come over here." Minho walked across his living room slash kitchen slash dining room—it was hard to tell, because it seemed like his apartment didn't have any walls— and led Jisung to a big space with a big terrarium, with a big lamp on top, another longer fluorescent lamp, and two little balls attached to the glass. Inside, it had a lot of plants, bowls, and a thing that looked like a log. And Galbi, of course. She was smaller than Jisung thought she would be. She was a small little animal, had a lot of spiny scales all over her body, especially under her chin and head. She was the colour of a sandstorm, and her mouth was very wide. When she opened it and peaked her little tongue out, it made Jisung laugh.

"Oh, hey baby." Jisung said almost involuntarily, completely in trance by the way Galbi wiggled her long tail at the sight of him, "Minho didn't tell me you were so cute. Aren't you cute? Aren't you the cutest little girl?" Jisung watched Galbi walk in her terrarium, and the sight of it just made him giggle. He found it funny, the way the reptile wiggled as it walked, how her head looked ridiculously big for her small body.

"I didn't know you were that type of person", Minho said.

"What type?" Minho was standing behind him, Jisung now crouching slightly to get a better view of Galbi, who had forgotten about him completely.

"You baby talk to animals. Your voice is like, in the higher octaves right now"

"Oh." Jisung felt his body flush, but hoped it was just a feeling, "Yeah. It's kind of a habit. I do it with babies too. It's kind of weird."

"I don't think it's weird. I think it's cute."

Jisung felt his cheeks now, they were definitely red and hot. "Thanks. You're probably saying that because you hear it a lot at work, though. I can only imagine the amount of baby talk people do at the animals there all day."

"Probably." Jisung was still looking at Galbi, but he heard Minho walk away from behind him. "I'll bring the documents and my laptop right now. Sit wherever you'd like."

Jisung ended up sitting on the big sectional sofa. There was a big coffee table comfortable enough for them to set their things on, and enough room for them to work either on the sofa or the table. 

Minho appeared again, setting a bunch of documents and a laptop covered with stickers on the table. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Do you have anything sweet?"

Minho smiled softly, to himself, "Of course."

Minho came back with two cups, both steaming hot. "One hot chocolate for you, one black coffee for me." 

Jisung let out a small thanks before taking a sip. It tasted sweet, but not sickeningly sweet. That meant it lacked sweetness. "Hey, do you have any whipped cream?"

Minho furrowed his eyebrows, before shooting them up in realization. "No, but I do have some marshmallows?"

"That's perfect."

* * *

They had been working for half an hour. Translating, getting context on what some things Jisung didn't get meant, drafting. A lot had happened in those thirty minutes. Well, maybe not _really,_ but to Jisung it felt like a lot had. 

Minho hadn't done much besides focus on getting things done. 

But that was what got Jisung so bothered. While he worked, he noticed the way Minho sat, thighs slightly spread far apart, like he was manspreading but not intentionally. Jisung had sat at a café with Minho for hours, but he hadn't noticed his thighs, and how big they were. They look really strong yet soft and full, and Jisung let himself wonder for a second how it would feel to sit on top of them. He noticed how Minho's fingers and mouth worked too, as they toyed with a pen he spun between his nimble fingers and put it between his lips when he was deep in thought. It made his lips look pretty and plump, and it made Jisung curious. And a little annoyed. But it was okay, because it had been almost three weeks since he met Minho, and he was used to these feelings flying around his chest and his mind. Annoyance, curiosity, something more, nothing else. 

Well, to be fair, Minho had done two things.

The first one started because of his damned good hot chocolate. Jisung had enjoyed the hot chocolate with marshmallows so much he had finished his cup instantly and asked for a second one. He'd been trying to focus despite all odds being against him, sipping his cup quietly. 

Jisung grabbed his cup once again, taking a long sip of the warm and rich flavour. "Minho, I don't know how to say _Companion Animal Ophthalmological Chart_ in Korean. I'm not even sure that's a real word in English. Are you sure this is right?" he put his cup back on the table and looked at Minho with his eyebrows furrowed.

As soon as they made eye contact, Minho broke into a smile. "What?" Jisung asked.

Minho took a long look at Jisung before taking his own thumb near his mouth and licking it slightly, wiping the corner of Jisung's mouth, "Here, you had chocolate on your face."

That had been strike one on trying Jisung's patience. The second one had been something Minho had started doing since they had sat down to work. He'd been teasing and annoying Jisung non-stop. Throwing silly jabs at him just to rile him up, and they worked, because they drove him crazy. 

_"Minho, I don't like this font. I don't think comic sans is professional."_

_"Well, this font doesn't like you."_

_"Jisung, could you move a little, I want space to work."_

_"You have the whole sofa. It's literally sectioned. Go to the other side."_

_"But I need to be close to you to work, just move,"_

_"You just said you wanted space."_

_"Just scoot a little, move your heavy butt,"_

_"No."_

_"Do you want me to move you myself or some—"_

_"Minho."_

_"Aigh. You're so annoying."_

_"Why do you hold the pen like that?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"You hold it weirdly."_

_"Shut up."_

_"I'm just pointing something out, why do you get so mad?"_

_"Minho, why do you even need to point out how I hold my pen?"_

_"Because you hold it weirdly."_

_"Shut up."_

They had been bickering back and forth like that since they started. Now forty minutes in, they'd been quiet for about five or six minutes, which for them, for this night, was a record. Minho was currently typing away what Jisung had translated a few minutes ago, what they had discussed to see if the sentences and words they had ended up with matched what Minho had been doing at work these past few weeks. Jisung had no idea what any of the words he translated meant. He felt ashamed for thinking Minho's job was just washing puppies, trimming their hair and checking if cats had ear infections, these documents had terms like _"oronasal fistula"_ and _"small brachycephalic animals with stenotic nares"._

Jisung was focused on one last translation when he heard Minho talk.

"You look funny when you concentrate," Jisung's eyes were focused on the documents scattered over his lap, but he didn't need to look at Minho to know he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "I should take a picture of you and turn it into a reaction picture. Your eyebrows get furrowed and you squint your eyes. I'd bet a million won that you—"

Jisung calmly moved the papers from his lap to the coffee table, and closed Minho's laptop. As he placed it on top of the pile of papers, he heard Minho mouth a faint "What" that was quickly silenced when Jisung climbed on his lap, straddling himself on his thighs, hands on top of his shoulders.

"Can you shut up?" Jisung had finally given in. Body over mind. Heart over body. Mind over heart. Mind over body. He didn't know anymore. He just knew he didn't act on impulse, this was something he'd been wanting to do for a long time.

"Can you say please?" Minho's initial surprise of having his laptop removed from him was completely gone, smirking back in place. He held Jisung steady by the waist, gripping him, pulling him close.

Jisung bit the inside of his cheek, boiling with annoyance. "Can you _please_ shut up?"

"Well, what about _pretty pl—_ "

That was his last straw. Jisung placed a long overdue kiss on Minho's lips, and Minho quickly kissed back. It was a type of kiss, no, _feeling_ , Jisung had never experienced before. They kissed like it was their first and last time. Like they didn't have any time left, like they were worlds apart, and those worlds started and ended on each other's mouths. When they broke apart, both of them were breathless. Minho looked wrecked. Jisung hadn't noticed, but he had placed his hands all over the other's hair and had bitten his lips raw. 

"Why won't you just shut up?" he said, both of their foreheads resting against each other, mouths breaths away. 

"Because it riles you up." Minho gripped the smaller's waist tighter, feeling the heat of his skin over the thin fabric of the shirt. "You like it when I push your buttons, don't you?"

"I don't."

"You kind of do."

"For the millionth time, _shut up_ , Minho."

"Make me." Jisung pulled Minho closer by the hem of his shirt and kissed him relentlessly. He kissed him, kissed him, kissed him and kissed him again. And Minho smiled into the kisses, kissing Jisung back.

Their lips clashed softly on their last kiss, and it felt so gentle and so enticing that made Jisung lean impossibly closer into it to deepen it, to get closer, to feel more of Minho, to lick at his cupid's bow and just let go as he gasped into his mouth. Jisung groaned against Minho's mouth, tasting his tongue against his own. The sweet taste from Jisung's hot chocolate was all over the others mouth now, mixing with the bitter coffee taste of his.

Minho was the first one to pull away. He leaned back into the soft cushion, taking a better look at Jisung, still sitting on his lap, "Why are we kissing like we're running out of time?"

"I don't know," Jisung said sincerely.

"You seem to know everything, but right now, you don't know." Minho licked his lips, and removed his hands from Jisung's waist. "Are we? What are we doing, Jisung?"

"I don't know," he repeated. 

Minho sighed quietly and shut his eyes, throwing his head back as far as the sofa headrest allowed. "Okay." 

That little action reminded Jisung of the night they got kicked out of the café, when they got lost in Seocho. Minho had thrown his head back before he said something along the lines of "It's us who do that together," after Jisung had accused him of only bringing chaos whenever he went. He had been looking at the sky when he told Jisung that the beauty of believing in destiny is the uncertainty of it. He'd looked at the sky, and he had not looked down until Jisung asked for directions. Jisung breathes in, and takes a chance. "I don't know, but," he considered taking everything back, but went on, "I like it right now."

"I will need you to elaborate a little."

"I like kissing you, and I don't know what that means. What it means for us, or if there's even an _us_. I don't know if we even qualify as friends, Minho."

"Well, yeah." Minho bit his lip and fixed Jisung's hair, placing a strand of hair behind his ear, "I like kissing you too. A lot, if you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I have." Jisung teased, interlocking his hands behind Minho's neck.

"Do you want to know something?" Minho asked.

"Mmm?"

"I think I'm a better kisser than you." 

"Is that a competition?" Jisung arched an eyebrow, eyes already locked on the ginger's lips.

"It is, but we haven't finished with the other discussion. What are we doing?"

"Does it matter?" It did, Jisung knew it did. But he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to open the box he'd been keeping his feelings for Minho in. He didn't even acknowledge the box until his talk with Felix. It was more like a luggage bag than a box. A luggage bag that refused to close, and his feelings for Minho were the clothes spilling all over, and Jisung was the stupid person just sitting on top of it, uselessly begging for it to zip up. "I like kissing you, and I wish I could do it more. But I don't know about anything else. Can that be enough?"

Minho let another sigh out, caressing the side of Jisung's cheek softly. "Just kissing, right?"

Jisung smirked instantly. "We'll see where it goes."

"But we're not..." Jisung did not let Minho finish. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he could imagine: _But we're not anything more? But we're not together? But we're not going to try? But we're…_ Too many questions Jisung did not know the answer to. Too many questions he couldn't give himself the luxury to fuck up the answer to right now.

"I don't know,"

"So no."

"Yeah, no."

Minho huffed softly one last time, "Okay. Yes, yes. Yes, just kiss me again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg so.... they fr enemies to lovers w dash of angst now. will changbin make an appearance in the last chapter..? We Will See.
> 
> i will update this before december ends!! idk if anyone checks on this fic tbh but if u do, see u then!! love u so much and thank u for supporting me and my writing! as always please leave kudos and comments, they encourage me a lot and they make my day!!


End file.
